Listen to the Water-Mill: Through the live-long day how the clicking of its wheel wears the hours away! Languidly the autumn wind stirs the forest leaves. From the field the reaper sing binding up their sheaves: And a proverb haunts my mind, as a spell is cast, "The mill cannot grind with the water that is past.” -Sarah Doudney-
Lovely! Short and sweet--easy to remember! Hindsight is 20/20...so looking back it always seems we could have done more/better. Recrimination never got anyone anywhere that's for sure..
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