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.
- The Old Mill Wheel, James Arvis Bartley
Hyde's Mill in rural iowa Country Wisconsin.
photo by Mark Adsit