THE OLD GRIST MELL JUNE 1935

No more by the pleasant brookside now Stands the stately old grist mill No more to feel its welcome sound

Our heart and senses thrill.

It has taken its place withuthings gone by

In the dim and shadowy past It served its generation well

But had to succumb at last

To Father Time; and the water slips

Over the waste - gate free,

And softly mourns as it onward flows

To its home in the grand old sea.

And well we remember in boyhood days

As memory backward spins, When the stones went round and the hopper shook

And the flour o'er flowed the bins.

And the white - capped miller went about

With steps so light and free And oftentimes he stopped the gear

And invited us in for tea.

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