The Mill

I HID beneath the covers of the bed, And dreamed my eyes were lovers, On a hill that was my head.

They looked upon the loveliest country I have seen, Great fields of red-brown earth hedged round with green.

In these enclosures I could see The high perfection of fertility,

I knew there were sweet waters near to feed the land, I heard the churning of a mill on my right hand,

I woke to breathlessness with a quick start, And found my mill the beating of your heart.