Low was her birth, and small her native town: She from her art alone obtain’d renown. Idmon, her father, made it his employ To give the spongy fleece a purple die: Of vulgar strain her, mother, lately dead, With her own rank had been content to wed; Yet she their daughter, though her time was spent In a small hamlet, and of mean descent, Through the great towns of Lydia gain’d a name, And fill’d the neighb’ring countries with her fame.