 | Morning Glories : |  |
TO CLEMENTS' FERRY.
One lovely summer afternoon when balmy breezes blew,
A charming little buggy, scarce large enough for two,
Dashed down a narrow little street and stopped beside a gate,
Where a charming little lassie dwelt, a lad had met of late.
A charming little buggy, scarce large enough for two,
Dashed down a narrow little street and stopped beside a gate,
Where a charming little lassie dwelt, a lad had met of late.
Out stepped a little body, looking like a happy bride;
He gently stood and placed her in a safe seat at his side:
“I'm going to show you now,” said he (with eyes that twinkle merry).
“The very prettiest of drives, it leads to Clements' Ferry.”
He gently stood and placed her in a safe seat at his side:
“I'm going to show you now,” said he (with eyes that twinkle merry).
“The very prettiest of drives, it leads to Clements' Ferry.”
“If you have never head of it, my darling little treasure,
I'll tell you all about the place, it will afford me pleasure.”
And on they sped, mile after mile, with chat and laughter merry—
He watched her dimpled, roguish smile and drove toward the ferry.
I'll tell you all about the place, it will afford me pleasure.”
And on they sped, mile after mile, with chat and laughter merry—
He watched her dimpled, roguish smile and drove toward the ferry.
Through lovely groves, where birds sang sweet their notes of joy so merry,
Or partridge, hid in ripened wheat, whistled his “Bob White” cherry.
Up the shell road and o'er the fields and by the moss-hung oaks.
Where marshy land its rich grain yields or sad-voiced raven croaks.
Or partridge, hid in ripened wheat, whistled his “Bob White” cherry.
48
Where marshy land its rich grain yields or sad-voiced raven croaks.
Then turning off the highway and past the gate of toll,
Then up into a by-way which led straight to the knoll,
“'Tis here,” said he “the loveliest spot in all the world so wide,
Swept by the breezes from the sea, and kissed by every tide.
Then up into a by-way which led straight to the knoll,
“'Tis here,” said he “the loveliest spot in all the world so wide,
Swept by the breezes from the sea, and kissed by every tide.
Come down beside the river's brink, where the water ripples merry—
A lovely place to rest and think, down here beside the ferry.”
So taking his uplifted hands she gave a little bound,
And very soon they sat them down upon the grassy ground.
A lovely place to rest and think, down here beside the ferry.”
So taking his uplifted hands she gave a little bound,
And very soon they sat them down upon the grassy ground.
“In days that are forever fled, when slavery cursed this nation,
This land was owned by “Clements” and on his great plantation
Were many slaves who daily tilled this soil, 'tho oft in pain—
Their master's coffers must be filled from the fields of golden grain.
This land was owned by “Clements” and on his great plantation
Were many slaves who daily tilled this soil, 'tho oft in pain—
Their master's coffers must be filled from the fields of golden grain.
They knew no rest who labored there, but worked from early light—
They ploughed and hood and reaped and sowed, till the sun went down at night;
Then to the river they would come all foot-sore, worn and weary,
Hungry and faint to reach their home they crossed here at the ferry.
They ploughed and hood and reaped and sowed, till the sun went down at night;
Then to the river they would come all foot-sore, worn and weary,
Hungry and faint to reach their home they crossed here at the ferry.
One day, they heard a strange sweet voice, not such as wont to lead them;
It made their burdened hearts rejoice, for 'twas the voice that freed them.
And when the sun went down that night their shouts rose loud and merry—
They crossed with footsteps swift and light the last time o'er this ferry.
It made their burdened hearts rejoice, for 'twas the voice that freed them.
49
They crossed with footsteps swift and light the last time o'er this ferry.
So here beside this river we have found a rustic seat”—
And still the water rippled on and winds blew soft and sweet—
“I've something else to tell you,” and his laughing eyes were merry,
He whispered something in her ear, but not about the ferry.
And still the water rippled on and winds blew soft and sweet—
“I've something else to tell you,” and his laughing eyes were merry,
He whispered something in her ear, but not about the ferry.
The sun was shining in the west and back toward home they drove;
Soft twilight had its shadows cast o'er field and “knoll” and grove—
The “ferry has another name, which lovers oft repeat,
Instead of ‘Clements' Ferry,’ it is now Sun Set Retreat.”
Soft twilight had its shadows cast o'er field and “knoll” and grove—
The “ferry has another name, which lovers oft repeat,
Instead of ‘Clements' Ferry,’ it is now Sun Set Retreat.”
| Morning Glories : | |