The free lance. (Fredericksburg, Va.) 1885-1926, 1901-08-22
OLD KING GEORGE.
Or. t. HUNTER. }


! was born in old King George, sir, and
all life would seem amiss
We're it not for the consoling, cheering
memory Of this
II ! never do another thing in all my life
beside,
Being born here I'll consider that sui
fcient ground for pride
I've been exiled from its happiness for
many long, long year,
But the memory Of its hundred charms
seems very near aud dear,
And the days ! spent away from it do
hardly seem part
Oi my life at adjust marshes in the low
lands of my heart.
feel was bat yesterday happy child
at play,
Discovering some new JOY in this Old
King George each day.
How envy that same boy his delight in
every Spring,
When thcfruit trees We're in blossom and
the birds begun to sing,
When Natures heart seemed bursting
with the joy Of everything,
and the festive June-bug struggled with
his hind leg in the string.
When the ripening black-heart cherry
brought "A pleasure all unieigned,
And his legs were full Of briars and his
fingers berry-staiped;
And think the sweets OF living kinder
gathered in lump
When the watermelon answered sweet
assurance TO the thump
oh tell me, We philosophers, is there in
manhood's prime
Any Joy like n c6ild's delight in water
melon time?
No. the zest of these things leave us, but
the memory stays behind,
And childhood gets the ripe inside anc
manhood keeps the rind.
oh! a year seemed such long time wheI
my years were very few,
When all liie's paths were strange to m'
and all it's sights were new,
And from time to setting hare gums, II
the later days of Fall.
Through the tedious months OF school
time-such n hardship to us all
Til the longed-for, wished-lor, watched
for. glorious Xmas set W. free,
In those days seemed much longer than
year does now to me
1t was then, my dear old county, begun
to learn your worth
And to know you have no equal in th'
confines of the earth,
And your dearness grows upon me will
the lengthening OF my years,
While your picture seems but brighter al
the haze Of morning clears.
Land where, in the winter time, the people
never tire
Of the dolce far neinte and the sitting by
the fire.
Or a-loafing round the stove at the ecross
road store,
Achieving of tobacco and a-letting thing
go,
Land where, in summer time, the peopl
seem made
For the dolce far neinte and the sitting u
the shade,
A-dozing and a-nodding and folding q
their hands
To the gentle agitations OF the palm-lea
fans;
And no one seems 10 worry about any
thing more
Than achieving Of tobacco and a-lettin
things go.
A land where sweet contentment brood
DER all the hills and dales,
And the glad-to-see-you kind OF hosplta
ity prevails,
Where the table holds a plenty for tn
unexpected guest
And the people move up closer and h
sits among the rest;
4 restful land, where people don't ear
how much time they spend
In doing that which gives them creates
pleasure in the end,
Where in hunting of the fox they take tn
first part of the week
And the rest to tell how Driver lost tn
trail by Muddy Creek"
Following on in conversation every trac
that Reynard made,
Showing every battling double and d
ceiving trick he played.
OH it makes life seem worth living I
be here in such a land
And to feel the genuine pressure OF trt
friendship on your hand
Oh! it gives me fresher confidence, renew
my seli-respect
And my heart is lifted higher and m
head is more erect,
And the clash of worldly strivings stoI
It's rumbling in my ears,
With the sense OF brooding quiet trol
your Thousand quiet years,
And find myself a-wondering if it real
wasn't So
All this tabled EldOrada OF the Ion
time ago.
| believe in all that pleasure that IL
"old folks" say they saw
| In that legendary period that they ter
.beforc the war
! Compared with what you used to be, o
land, it's true, indeed,
You're a frost-bit, sad Arcadia and
Eden gone TO seed;