The Old Mill Wheel



By the mill stream sits a miller’s lonely daughter 

And her cheeks were like the first red rose of June

And her sweet voice sounded like the rippling water

As so tenderly she hummed an old love tune.

But how soon her song of love was turned to sorrow

For her sweetheart he must come and say good by

She was thinking of the lone and sad to-morrow

When he kisses her and murmers with a sigh

Chorus:

When the bees are in the hive,

And the honey in the comb,

And the golden sunbeams bend to kiss the due

As the old mill wheel turns around you Mary I love

When the bees are in the hive I’ll come for you



By the mill stream sits a lonely maid repining

For her fancy like the stream runs far away,

As she looks into the rippling water shining

And sees her golden locks are tinged with gray

Long years she’s waited there for his returning