Filters, warm-pouring from the grinding wheel

Into the bin; beside which, mealy white,

The miller looms, dim in the dusty light.

Again I see the miller's home, between

The crinkling creek and hills of beechen green:

Again the miller greets me, gaunt and brown,

Who oft o'erawed me with his gray-browed frown

And rugged mien: again he tries to reach

My youthful mind with fervid scriptural speech.—

[13] 

For he, of all the country-side confessed,

The most religious was and happiest;

A Methodist, and one whom faith still led,

No books except the Bible had he read—

At least so seemed it to my younger head.—

All things in earth and heav'n he'd prove by this,

Be it a fact or mere hypothesis;

For to his simple wisdom, reverent,

"The Bible says" was all of argument.—

God keep his soul! his bones were long since laid

 Prev. P 25/139 next