To the Memory of Job Littell.
"My Grandfather's Mill" (7 Dec 1883)
Song and Chorus
Words by W. T. Kendall
Music by B. F. Kendall

Cincinnati, OH: JOHN CHURCH & CO.
[Source: 22007@Levy]

1. By the mountain side where the silv’ry tide 
Of the stream from the pathless wood, 
Roll’d its waters below, long, long ago, 
The mill of my Grandsire stood. 
With his fair young bride, in his strength and pride, 
There the structure he rudely plann’d, 
Ere the beasts of prey or the wild birds lay 
Or the warriors were gone from the land.

CHORUS [sung after each verse]
There many a day heav’d the foam and the spray, 
And for homes that were lowly yet dear, 
There its busy wheels broke the golden seals, 
From the grain of the brave pioneer. 

2. But hoary and gray it crumbled away,
And its path no more is trod
By the careworn men who passed it then,
They sleep ’neath the mountain sod.
Well, the tale is told by the hearth now cold,
Of the home by the peaceful rill,
With its joys long fled and its sweet words said
By lips that forever are still.

3. Would that stream reveal what the soul can feel
With its mingling of hopes and fears,
What a stoty ’twould tell of the secrets that dwell,
In the heart of the buried years.
As I wander to dream where the crystal stream
Is murm’ring so soft and low,
Methinks I hear those voices so dear
In the song of its ripple and flow.