The Library of Philip F De Pinto Patron Country: U.S.A. Member Since: December 2001 Last Login: 03/17/2010 The Miller's Wife a poem by Edward Arlington Robinson The miller's wife had waited long, The tea was cold, the fire was dead; And there might yet be nothing wrong In how he went and what he said: " There are no millers any more, " And he had lingered at the door So long that it seemed yesterday. Sick with a fear that had no form She knew that she was there at last; And in the mill there was a warm And mealy fragrance of the past. What else there was would only seem To say again what he had meant; And what was hanging from a beam Would not have heeded where she went. And if she thought it followed her, She may have reasoned in the dark That one way of the few there were Would hide her and would leave no mark: Black water, smooth above the weir Like starry velvet in the night, Though ruffled once, would soon appear The same as ever to the sight. The following icons will enable you to enter different areas of this poet's library. Click on the appropriate icon to enter the area of your choice. My Friends My Favorites  All That Trash Dogpa  Sublemon  all new all true and all yours  artemis  fancy rants far in hi ku! to which ku replied!  lonesone gorge quill qualms  the who gives a who bin words This Month's Patrons   pathetic.org Version 7.3.1 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 2 member(s) and 15 visitor(s) online All works Copyright © 2010 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)