The Old Mill Wheel
The Old Mill Wheel
The old mill-wheel, it turns, it turns
Throughout the livelong day,
And flings the current of the stream,
Abroad in glist’ning spray:
That old, black wheel has turn’d for years,
Beside the mossy mill,
That stands, like some old, sacred thing,
Beneath the clay-red hill.
The old mill-wheel, it turns, it turns
Like time’s unresting one,
Which day and night, and night and day,
Hath never ceased to run:
The old mill-wheel, an emblem true,
Of Time that ne’er stands still,
I love to see it turning so,
Beside the mossy mill.
The old mill-wheel, it turns, it turns,
As in my childhood’s hour;–
As when I bathed beneath its rim,
In its refreshing shower:
But they who were my comrades then,
Are sleeping on the hill,
And now, to them, forever now,
The old Mill-wheel stands still.
Author: James Avis Bartley
All photographs copyright of Eco Evolution.
That’s a great photo! We have a ruin of an old mill wall in our garden that would be the same width and height as this. I’ve been trying to figure out how the water got up to it as the stream runs to the right of it, this has helped explain the set up!!
Thank you Rosie. The photo was taken in Antrim on our ‘Mills and Millers of Ireland’ weekend. Had completely forgotten that you had an old mill site in your garden. Glad you have worked out how the water managed to get up to the mill wall.Drop us a line if you have anymore questions.