THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER

by: Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)

      T is the miller's daughter,
      And she is grown so dear, so dear,
      That I would be the jewel
      That trembles in her ear:
      For hid in ringlets day and night,
      I'd touch her neck so warm and white.
       
      And I would be the girdle
      About her dainty dainty waist,
      And her heart would beat against me,
      In sorrow and in rest:
      And I should know if it beat right,
      I'd clasp it round so close and tight.
       
      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 unclasp'd at night.

MORE POEMS BY ALFRED TENNYSON

RELATED LINKS

BROWSE THE POETRY ARCHIVE:

[ A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z ]

Home · Poetry Store · Links · Email · © 2002 Poetry-Archive.com