When I reached old Joe Webber’s place, Upon the Corner Road, I went into the Upper Field Where Joe, round-shouldered, hoed Potatoes, culling them with hoe And practised, calloused hand, In rounded piles that brownly glowed Upon the fresh-turned land. “Say, Joe,” I said, “who is that girl With beauty’s smiling charm, That lives beyond that hemlock growth, On that old grown-up farm?” Joe listened, while I told him where I’d been that afternoon, Then straightened from his hoe, and hummed, Before he spoke, a tune “They cum ter thet old place ter live Some sixty years ago; Jest where they cum from, who they ware, Wy, no one got to know. “An’ then, one day, he hired Hen’s Red racker an’ the gig; We never heard from him nor could We track the hoss or rig. “Hen waited ’bout a week, an’ then He went ter see the Wife; He found her in thet settin’ room: She’d taken of her life. “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. All these I’ll love, never hate, And loving them, I will be great. OLIVER JENKINS LOVE AUTUMNAL My love will come in autumn-time When leaves go spinning to the ground And wistful stars in heaven chime With the leaves’ sound. Then, we shall walk through dusty lanes And pause beneath low-hanging boughs, And there, while soft-hued beauty reigns We’ll make our vows. Let others seek in spring for sighs When love flames forth from every seed; But love that blooms when nature dies Is love indeed! OLIVER JENKINS ECHOS