I used to keep my people warm
In frost and wind and fog and storm;
With bits of fluff and sticks I formed the magic stuff of clothes.
My spindle spun with giddy cheer,
My needles fenced like eager deer,
And loop by tiny loop appeared the missing human pelt.
Sometimes a child would come to see
How much was done, whose it would be,
And questing fingers gently squeezed the springy finished rows.
Well, times have changed, but I’m still true;
I do things no machine can do;
I could still save your life if you will let the spell be felt.