Whether the shapeless wool in balls she wound,

Or with quick motion turned the spindle round,

Or with her pencil drew the neat design,

Pallas her mistress shone in every line.

This the proud maid with scornful air denies,

And even the goddess at her work defies;

Disowns her lieavcnly mistress every hour,

Nor asks her aid, nor deprecates her power.