I love her with a love as still THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER. As a broad river's peaceful might, Which, by high tower and lowly mill, Goes wandering at its own will, And yet doth ever flow aright. And, on its full, deep breast serene, It flows around them and between, And makes them fresh and fair and greenSweet homes wherein to live and die. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. Serenade. AH, sweet, thou little knowest how That tender thought of love and thee, That while the world is hushed so deep, Thy soul's perhaps awake to me! Sleep on, sleep on, sweet bride of sleep! With golden visions for thy dower, While I this midnight vigil keep, And bless thee in thy silent bower; To me 'tis sweeter than the power Of sleep, and fairy dreams unfurled, That I alone, at this still hour, In patient love outwatch the world. Serenade. THOMAS HOOD. Look out upon the stars, my love, There hang more destinies. Of blending shades and light: Sleep not!-thine image wakes for aye Sleep not!-from her soft sleep should fly, Nay, lady, from thy slumbers break, And make this darkness gay, 277 With looks whose brightness well might make Of darker nights a day. EDWARD COATE PINKNEY. The Miller's Daughter. IT is the miller's daughter, And she is grown so dear, so dear, That I would be the jewel That trembles at her ear; For, hid in ringlets day and night, And I would be the girdle About her dainty, dainty waist, And I should know if it beat right, And I would be the necklace, And all day long to fall and rise Upon her balmy bosom With her laughter or her sighs; And I would lie so light, so light, I scarce should be unclasped at night. ALFRED TENNYSON. The Brook-side. I WANDERED by the brook-side, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, But the beating of my own heart I sat beneath the elm-tree; I watched the long, long shade, And as it grew still longer I did not feel afraid; For I listened for a footfall, I listened for a word, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. |