I'm in love (again)

I have rediscovered the most beautiful piece of music. 'The Water Mill' by Ralph Vaughan Williams [poem by Fredegond Shove] -what a name! Anyway, obviously, there was no handy-dandy link to a recording that I could include here for your auditory delight, but if you have a chance, please try and listen to this. 'Magical' springs to mind, but that's really the understatement of the millenium. (Oh, I have the sheet music Cam, so gues what you're playing next time you're up!)

The Water Mill

There is a mill, an ancient one,
Brown with rain, and dry with sun,
The miller's house is joined with it.
And in July the swallowsflit
To and Fro, in and out,
Round the windows, all about;
The mill wheel whirrs and the waters roar
ut of the dark arch by the door,
The willows toss their silver heads,
And the phloxes in the garden beds
Turn red, turn grey
With the time of day,
And smell sweet in the rain, then die away.
The miller's cat is a tabby, she
is as lean as a healthy cat can be,
She plays in the loft where the sunbeams stroke
The sacks' fat backs, the beetles choke
In the floury dust. The wheel goes round
And the miller's wife sleeps fast and sound.
There is a clock inside the house,
Very tall and bright,
It strike the hour when shadows drowse,
Or showers make the windows white;
Loud and sweet, in rain and sun,
The clock strikes, and the work is done.
The miller's wife ad his eldest girl
Clean and cook, while the mill wheels whirl.
The children take their meat to school,
And at dusk they play by the twilit pool;
Bare-foot, bare-head
Till the day is dead,
And their mother calls them into bed.
The supper stands on the clean-scrubbed board,
And the miller drinks like a thirsty lord;
The young men come for his daughter's sake,
But she never knows which one to take:
She drives her needle, and pins her stuff,
While the moon shines gold, and the lamp shines buff.