The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1913-05-22
COMING BACK TO OLD VIRGINIA

was born in Old King George. sir.
And for its subtle something that
or every true King Georgian. and no
~, matter how YOU try
To he rid Of il that something" will
Twill hold you by the heart-strlngs
however far YOU roam,
While its gentle tuggings tell you that
King George is still your home.
| was born in Old King George, sir,
We and all life would seem amiss
were II not for the consoiing, cheering
memory OF this.
If I never do another thing in all my
years beside
Being born there. Iii consider that
sufficient ground for pride
I've been eXiled from it's happiness for
many long, long year,
But the memory OF it's hundred charms
is very near and dear,
Ana the days I've spent away from IL
or my, life at all: just marshes in the
lowlands OF my heart.
feel I was hut Yesterday a happy
child at play
Discovering some new Joy in this Old
King George each day.
How !. envy that same boy his delight
When the fruit trees are in blossom
and the birds begin to sing:
When Natures heart seems bursting
with the joy of everything
And the festive June-bug struggles
with his hind leg in the string;
When the ripening black heart cherry
brings a pleasure nil unfeigned.
And his legs are full of briars and his
fingers berry stained:
And think the sweets of living kinder
gather in lump
When the watermelo answers full
assurance to the thump.
oh. tell me we philosophers. Is there in
Anv +d ma nh prime
No. the zest OF those things leaves us,
Just the memory stays behind.
And childhood gets the ripe inside and
manhood gets the rind.
Oh! year seemed such a long time
when my years were very few:
When all l.ifc's paths were strange to
me and all its sights were new:
When from time for setting hare gums
Tbrour IN the sna later rod dnys of fan;
school hardship to
Til I'll the j. ID longed.for, wished for.
@atcned-for glorious Christmas
In those days seemed much longer
>. than year does now to me.
1t was then, my dear old county.
begun TO know your worth.
And to learn you have no equal in tho
confines OF the earth
AnG your dearncss grows upon me with
the lenethning of my years,
While your picture seems but brighter
as the haze of morning clears.
Land where. in the winter-time, the
people never tire
OF dolce far niente and a-sitting by
the fire.
Or loafing round the grocery in a
Illuminating row,
Just a7chewing OF tobacco and a-letting
of things go.
Land where. in the summer time, the
just people seem made
For dolce far nientc and a-sitting in
the shade
And no one seems to banker for a
higher enterprise
Than to roll UP in a hammock and to
keep away the flies
Land where sweet contentment broodS
Ger all the hills and dales.
ana the glad-to- See-you Kind of hos
pitality prevails:
A reStful land, whore people don't care
how much time they spend
In doing that which gives them great
est pleasure in the end
Where i'm hunting of the fox they take
the first part of the week.
And the rest to tell how Driver lost
the trail by Muddy Creek"
Following on in conversation every
track that Reynard made,
Showing every bathing double and
decoiving trick he played.
Oh! 1t gives a zest to living just to be
In such land.
And to feel the genuine pressure of