But folks forget so hurriedly

And talk of fuss and feather,

I think they’d best come out and

My old house and the weather.

{44}

Bluestone River, W. Va.

SOMETIME in my day dreaming

S

Thru’ my half-lidded eyes,

I’m seeing old Virginia

And Old Virginia skies.

The narrow, crooked roadway,

The path by which we came,

And then I see the river,

Bluestone river, in the rain.

Then there’s the drooping willows

Swaying, swirling, side by side.

And the hollyhocks keep nodding

To each other in the tide.

And the mists we love o’ mornings

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