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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381413" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Mill</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381413" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The miller's wife had waited long,<br>The tea was cold, the fire was dead;<br>And there might yet be nothing wrong<br>In how he went and what he said:<br>"There are no millers any more,"<br>Was all that she heard him say;<br>And he had lingered at the door<br>So long it seemed like yesterday.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381413" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Sick with a fear that had no form<br>She knew that she was there at last;<br>And in the mill there was a warm<br>And mealy fragrance of the past.<br>What else there was would only seem<br>To say again what he had meant;<br>And what was hanging from a beam<br>Would not have heeded where she went.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=381413" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And if she thought it followed her,<br>She may have reasoned in the dark<br>That one way of the few there were<br>Would hide her and would leave no mark:<br>Black water, smooth above the weir<br>Like starry velvet in the night,<br>Though ruffled once, would soon appear<br>The same as ever to the sight.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Edwin+Arlington+Robinson">Edwin Arlington Robinson</a></strong></div>