And all so variously wrought, I marvell'd how the mind was brought And wherefore rather I made choice THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER. I SEE the wealthy miller yet, His double chin, his portly size, The busy wrinkles round his eyes? And full of dealings with the world? In yonder chair I see him sit, Three fingers round the old silver cup— I see his gray eyes twinkle yet At his own jest-gray eyes lit up With summer lightnings of a soul VOL. I. L Yet fill my glass: give me one kiss : Have I not found a happy earth? I least should breathe a thought of pain. Would God renew me from my birth I'd almost live my life again. So sweet it seems with thee to walk, And once again to woo thee mine— It seems in after-dinner talk Across the walnuts and the wine To be the long and listless boy Late-left an orphan of the squire, Where this old mansion mounted high Looks down upon the village spire: For even here, where I and you Have lived and loved alone so long, Each morn my sleep was broken thro' By some wild skylark's matin song. And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan; I had no motion of my own. Before I dream'd that pleasant dream Still hither thither idly sway'd Like those long mosses in the stream. Or from the bridge I lean'd to hear And see the minnows everywhere In crystal eddies glance and poise, The tall flag-flowers when they sprung Below the range of stepping-stones, Or those three chestnuts near, that hung In masses thick with milky cones. But, Alice, what an hour was that, A love-song I had somewhere read, From some odd corner of the brain. With weary sameness in the rhymes, The phantom of a silent song, That went and came a thousand times. Then leapt a trout. In lazy mood And there a vision caught my eye; A glowing arm, a gleaming neck, As when a sunbeam wavers warm Within the dark and dimpled beck. For you remember, you had set, That morning, on the casement-edge A long green box of mignonette, And you were leaning from the ledge: And when I raised my eyes, above They met with two so full and bright— Such eyes! I swear to you, my love, That these have never lost their light. |