THE moon is newly risen, I wander through the vale; My dreaming eyes are spell-bound By radiance sad and pale. Behind the mill she rises; I watch her silver shield, And in my heart burst open The wounds I thought were healed. Long since, the wheels have mouldered, And roof and door are gone; Babbling of days departed The glittering stream flows on. The moon has sunk in darkness, The wind is blowing cold; Dead is the miller's daughter, And I am grey and old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAMB, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE ON SOME LINES OF LOPE DE VEGA by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) THE BIRTH SONG OF CHRIST by EDMUND HAMILTON SEARS THE TRANSLATION by MARK VAN DOREN |