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44
The Water-Mill
From the lone blue hills afar,
Where the sunset lingers long,
And the shepherd's folding star
Lark-like hangs in crystal song;
Where the sunset lingers long,
And the shepherd's folding star
Lark-like hangs in crystal song;
From the hills so blue and lone,
Where the magic pine-trees sway,
And the dumb grey boulder-stone
Dreams the centuries away;
Where the magic pine-trees sway,
And the dumb grey boulder-stone
Dreams the centuries away;
Down the strath, and through the wood,
Past the farms, across the plain,
Runs the stream, a silvery flood,
Turns the wheel and grinds the grain;
Past the farms, across the plain,
Runs the stream, a silvery flood,
Turns the wheel and grinds the grain;
45
Gathers colour, gathers tune,
From the haunts where it has strayed,
Morning, noon, and afternoon,
Pours them throbbing through the lade.
From the haunts where it has strayed,
Morning, noon, and afternoon,
Pours them throbbing through the lade.
Passion-tinged, experience-rife,
Thus let Time's swift current roll,
Turning all the wheels of life—
So shalt thou have bread, my soul!
Thus let Time's swift current roll,
Turning all the wheels of life—
So shalt thou have bread, my soul!
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