Ye, the wheel of life.
It turns, it turns, the relentless, uncaring wheel;
Blind, wise; a soundless roar rushing in the ear of every man —
Hark! The child’s cry, the mother’s soothing;
These be the sounds of Wheel’s beginnings!
And woe! For even in the tend’rest eye:
Death minds with patience — or alas, for some, with none;
The wheel shall shudder, in time —
For to close the old mill down.
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