"An' no one's lived in thet house sence;
Some say 'tis haunted,-but
I ain't no use fer foolishness,
So all I say's tut! tut!"
WINIFRED VIRGINIA JACKSON
CROSS-CURRENTS
THEY wrapped my soul in eiderdown;
They placed me warm and snug
In carved chair; set me with care
Upon an old prayer rug.
They cased my feet in golden shoes
That hurt at toe and heel;
My restless feet, with youth all fleet,
Nor asked how they might feel.
And now they wonder where I am,
And search with shrill, cold cry;
But I crouch low where tall reeds grow,
And smile as they pass by!
WINIFRED VIRGINIA JACKSON
THE FAREWELL
WHAT is more beautiful
Than thought, soul-fed,
That I may be the crimson of a rose
When dead?
My soul, so light a joy
And grief will be,
That it will gently press the brown earth down
On me.
WINIFRED VIRGINIA JACKSON
SONG
LET me be great, as stars are great,
Singing of love, not of hate.
Love for sweet and simple things,
Like clouds and sea-shell whisperings,
Cool autumn winds, pale dew-kissed flowers,
Thin coils of smoke and granite towers,
Snow-capped mountain peaks that flash
High above a river's crash,
Shrill songs of birds and children's laughter,
Soft grey shadows trailing after
Sunbeam sprites that seek the woods
And lose themselves in solitudes.
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