Song: “It is the miller’s daughter”

Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)

From “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,

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 unclasped at night.