Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DOVECOTT MILL: 12. THE BABY, by PHOEBE CARY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DOVECOTT MILL: 12. THE BABY, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: O'er the millers' cottage the seasons glide
Last Line: Of the happy miller of dovecote mill.
Subject(s): Birth; Child Birth; Midwifery


O'er the miller's cottage the seasons glide,
And at the next year's Christmas-tide
We see her a mother, we saw a bride.

All in the spring was the brown flax spun,
All in the summer it bleached in the sun;
In the autumn days was the sewing done.

And just when the Babe was born of old,
Close wrapped in many a dainty fold,
She gave the mother her babe to hold.

Ah, sweetly the maiden's ditties rung,
And sweet was the song the young wife sung;
But never trembled yet on her tongue,

Such tender notes as the lullabies,
That now beside the cradle rise
Where softly sleeping the baby lies.

And the child has made the father grow
Prouder, as all who see may know,
Than he was of his bride, a year ago.

He kinder too has grown to all,
And oft as the gloomy shadows fall,
He speaks of the Squire in his lonely hall.

And Bethy, even more tender grown,
Says, almost with tears in her tone,
How he's growing old in his home alone.

For now, that her life is so bright and fair,
She thinks of all men with griefs to bear;
And of sorrowful women everywhere,

Who sit with empty hands to hold,
And weep for babies dead and cold, --
And of such as never had babes to hold.

So the miller and wife live on in their cot
Untroubled, content with what they have got; --
Hath the whole wide world a happier lot?

And the neighbors all about declare,
That never a better, handsomer pair,
Are seen at market, church, or fair.

So free from envy, pride, or guile,
They keep their rustic simple style,
And bask in fortune's kindliest smile.

Though time and tide must go as they will,
And change must even cross the sill
Of the happy Miller of Dovecote Mill.





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