THE MAID OF THE MILL.
Golden years ago in a mill beside the sea.
There dwelt a little maiden, who plighted her faith to me;
The mill-wheel now is silent, the maid's eyes closed be,
And all that now remains of her are the words she sang to me:
Do not forget me I do not forget me!
Think sometimes of me still;
When the morn breaks and throstle awakes,
Remember the maid of the mill.
Do not forget me! do not forget me!
Remember the maid, the maid of the mill.
Leaden years have past, gray-haired I look around,
The earth has no such maidens now. such mill-wheels turn not round
But whenever I think of heaven and of whut the angels be,
I see again that little maid and hear her words to me:-Chorus.