The Millers Daughter（1/1）

Alfred Tennyson

It is the illers daughter,

And she is grown so dear, so dear,

That I would be the jewel

That trebles at her ear:

For hidrglets day and night,

Id touch her neck so war and white.

And I would be the girdle

About her daty daty waist,

And her heart would beat agast

In sorrow andrest:

And I should know if it beat right,

Id csp it round so close and tight.

And I would be the neckce,

And all day long to fall and rise

Upon her baly boso,

With her ughter or her sighs,

And I would lie so light, so light,

I scarce should be uncspd at night.