THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
41
At last you rose, and moved the light,
And the long shadow of the chair
Flitted across into the night,
And all the casement darkened there.
And the long shadow of the chair
Flitted across into the night,
And all the casement darkened there.
XVII.
I loved, but when I dared to speak
My love, the lanes were white with May,
Your ripe lips moved not, but your cheek
Flushed like the coming of the day.
Rosecheekt, roselipt, half-sly, half-shy,
You would, and would not, little one,
Altho' I pleaded tenderly,
And you and I were all alone.
I loved, but when I dared to speak
My love, the lanes were white with May,
Your ripe lips moved not, but your cheek
Flushed like the coming of the day.
Rosecheekt, roselipt, half-sly, half-shy,
You would, and would not, little one,
Altho' I pleaded tenderly,
And you and I were all alone.
XVIII.
Remember you the clear moonlight,
That whitened all the eastern ridge,
When o'er the water, dancing white,
I stepped upon the old millbridge.
Remember you the clear moonlight,
That whitened all the eastern ridge,
When o'er the water, dancing white,
I stepped upon the old millbridge.
