Charlesworth advertises his grist and woollen mills at
"The Passing of
The old "Grist Mill" at Headford
Sturdy relic of the past,
Amid time's cruel changes
It has met its fate at last;
It has served its useful purpose
And ground the wheat for bread,
By which three generations
Of Markham folks were fed.
It was built in years far distant
By a man whose name was Burr,
Of the very choicest timber
The forests could confer;
And a master workman framed it
For to stand through years ahead,
When the builders were forgotten
And numbered with the dead.
It has had its 'Evolution'
From its evershot big wheel,
To the little modern Turbine
Made of iron and of steel;
Tho' the outside showed few changes
Such as age and use betides,
There were numerous 'revolutions'
In the poor old mill's 'insides.'
There were many different millers
As the fleeting years did roll,
But none who were found forgetful
To retain their usual toll;
Gone are the old time millers,
And the men whose grist they ground
Have vanished from these earthly scenes
And their place no more is found.
The last survivor of his race
Is getting old and gray,
He sold the mill, and from roof to sill,
He saw it moved away;
But oft in silent midnight hours
In his dreams he can hear it still:
The 'swish' of the falling water
And the clatter of the mill.
F. Elliott in
The Liberal,21 December 1916