ADOWN in yon cool valley I hear a mill-wheel go: Alas! my love has left me, Who once dwelt there below. A ring of gold she gave me, And vowed she would be true; The vow long since was broken, The gold ring snapped in two. I would I were a minstrel, To rove the wide world o'er, And sing afar my measures, And rove from door to door; Or else a soldier, flying Deep into furious fight, By silent camp-fires lying A-field in gloomy night. Hear I the mill-wheel going: I know not what I will; 'Twere best if I were dying— Then all were calm and still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OVER THE RIVER by NANCY WOODBURY PRIEST PREFATORY POEM TO MY BROTHER'S SONNETS by ALFRED TENNYSON CAMPS OF GREEN by WALT WHITMAN THE BARTHOLDI STATUE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AT THE FUNERAL OF A MINOR POET by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |