The Mill-Pond

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The Mill-Pond

The sun blazed while the thunder yet

Added a boom:

A wagtail flickered bright over

The mill-pond’s gloom:

Less than the cooing in the alder

Isles of the pool

Sounded the thunder through that plunge

Of waters cool.

Scared starlings on the aspen tip

Past the black mill

Outchattered the stream and the next roar

Far on the hill.

As my feet dangling teased the foam

That slid below

A girl came out. “Take care!” she said⁠—

Ages ago.

She startled me, standing quite close

Dressed all in white:

Ages ago I was angry till

She passed from sight.

Then the storm burst, and as I crouched

To shelter, how

Beautiful and kind, too, she seemed,

As she does now!