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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
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