A groaning din of broken-down machines, Still labor from a century of abuse, While time relentlessly disrupts and schemes To overtake with age their further use; The memories locked within that shoddy shack, The meal, the flour, conditioned by the ton, Would fill up many volumes back to back With farmers' fortunes and misfortunes run; The modern mill that grew to take its place Now overshadows such an ancient one; With fresh efficiency the new mill race Redoubles all the work that's to be done; Through years of hardship, labouring for gain, A tombstone landmark is the brief remain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THESMOPHORIAZUSAE: WOMEN'S CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES 1914: 3. THE DEAD by RUPERT BROOKE WRITTEN ON A WALL AT WOODSTOCK by ELIZABETH I THOMAS MACDONAGH by FRANCIS LEDWIDGE HE FELL AMONG THIEVES by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT THE WOODLANDS by WILLIAM BARNES |