The Project Gutenberg EBook of In Ancient Albemarle, by Albertson Catherine
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: In Ancient Albemarle
Author: Catherine Albertson
Illustrator: Pugh Mabel
Release Date: June 16, 2008 [EBook #25805]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN ANCIENT ALBEMARLE ***
Produced by Irma Spehar, Graeme Mackreth and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file made using scans of public domain works at the
University of Georgia.)
[Illustration: OLD FLOAT BRIDGE ACROSS THE PERQUIMANS RIVER]
IN ANCIENT ALBEMARLE
_By Catherine Albertson_
PUBLISHED BY THE
NORTH CAROLINA SOCIETY DAUGHTERS OF THE REVOLUTION
ILLUSTRATED FROM DRAWINGS BY
MABEL PUGH
RALEIGH
COMMERCIAL PRINTING COMPANY
1914
COPYRIGHT, 1914
BY
CATHERINE ALBERTSON
DEDICATION
TO
MARY HILLIARD HINTON
STATE REGENT DAUGHTERS OF THE REVOLUTION
WITHOUT WHOSE AID AND ENCOURAGEMENT
THESE CHAPTERS WOULD NEVER
HAVE BEEN WRITTEN
--_C.A._
THE PERQUIMANS RIVER
From the Great Swamp's mysterious depths,
Where wild beasts lurk and strange winds sough;
From ancient forests dense and dark,
Where gray moss wreathes the cypress bough;
'Mid marshes green with flowers starred,
Through fens where reeds and rushes sway,
Past fertile fields of waving grain,
Down to the sea I take my way.
The wild swan floats upon my breast;
The sea-gulls to my waters sink;
And stealing to my low green shores,
The timid deer oft stoops to drink.
The yellow jessamine's golden bells
Ring on my banks their fairy chime;
And tall flag lilies bow and bend,
To the low music keeping time.
Between my narrow, winding banks,
For many a mile I dream along
'Mid silence deep, unbroken save
By rustling reed, or wild bird's song;
Or murmuring of my shadowed waves
Beneath the feathery cypress trees,
Or pines, responsive to the breath
Of winds that breathe sea memories.
So far removed seem shore and stream,
From sound and sight of mart or mill,
That Kilcokonen's painted braves
Might roam my
|