Explore "The Mill" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The wheel goes round -- the wheel goes round / With drip and whir and plash, / It keeps all green the grassy ground, / The alder, beech and ash.
The ferns creep out 'mid mosses cool, / Forget-me-nots are found / Blue in the shadow by the pool -- / And still the wheel goes round.
Round goes the wheel, round goes the wheel, / The foam is white like cream, / The merry waters dance and reel / Along the stony stream.
The little garden of the mill, / It is enchanted ground, / I smell its stocks and wall-flowers still, / And still the wheel goes round.
The wheel goes round, the wheel goes round, / And life's wheel too must go -- / But all their clamour has not drowned / A voice I used to know.
Her window's blank. The garden's bare / As her chill new-made mound, / But still my heart's delight is there, / And still the wheel goes round.