To Cromford Mill
Leaves have fallen
Yet still I sway
To lover’s sounds
Down Morrison’s
Lane, the pain, and joy
Of autumn’s gold
My ploy is near
And bold of touch
Fear not, to speak
Of much ado
About nothing; love
It’s far too far away
To sing in, and out
Of time, pray
That we will find
Our own bright
Mullioned window
Bill me now, it is
So close, shows go
On, to the rose
And trellis, thereby
To embellish the breeze
At Cromford Mill
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