Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

Richard Monckton Milnes Houghton, 1st Baron 1809–85

The Brook-Side

HoughtonR

I WANDER’D by the brook-side,

I wander’d by the mill;

I could not hear the brook flow,

The noisy wheel was still;

There was no burr of grasshopper,

No chirp of any bird,

But the beating of my own heart

Was all the sound I heard.

I sat beneath the elm-tree;

I watch’d the long, long shade,

And, as it grew still longer,

I did not feel afraid;

For I listen’d for a footfall,

I listen’d for a word,

But the beating of my own heart

Was all the sound I heard.

He came not,—no, he came not—

The night came on alone,

The little stars sat, one by one,

Each on his golden throne;

The evening wind pass’d by my cheek,

The leaves above were stirr’d,

But the beating of my own heart

Was all the sound I heard.

Fast silent tears were flowing,

When something stood behind;

A hand was on my shoulder,

I knew its touch was kind:

It drew me nearer—nearer,

We did not speak one word,

For the beating of our own hearts

Was all the sound we heard.