AH little mill, you're rumbling still, Ah sunset flecked with gold! Ah deepening tinge, ah purple fringe Of lilac as of old! Ah hawthorn hedge, ah light-won pledge Of kisses warm and plenty, When she was true, and twenty-two, And I was two-and-twenty. I don't know how she broke her vow -- She said that I was "horty"; And there's the mill a goin' still, And I am five-and-forty. And sooth to tell, 'twas just as well, Her aitches were uncertain; Her ways though nice, not point-device; Her father liked his "Burton." But there's a place you cannot trace, So spare the fond endeavour -- A cloudless sky, where Kate and I Are twenty-two for ever. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN AMERICAN IN BANGKOK by KAREN SWENSON SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 1. AT TEA by THOMAS HARDY THREE THINGS by CHRISTOPHER BANNISTER THE SHEPHERD O' THE FARM by WILLIAM BARNES EVENING MUSIC by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN FAILAND by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN ON JOHN DOVE [JOHNNY DOW], INNKEEPER OF MAUCHLINE by ROBERT BURNS TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. THE WANDERING PSYCHE by EDWARD CARPENTER |