Classic Poem

At evening and at dawn old Platthis often sacrificed her sleep to keep off poverty, sitting at her distaff and spindle, although she was on the threshold of old age. And she sometimes whirled her loom all night, cheerfully winding the woof-thread around her shrivelled knees with a withered hand. At the age of eighty, Platthis, who plied the loom so faithfully, saw the waters of Akheron.