The descendants of hardy settlers contemporaneous with Captain John Smith and his associates, followed by the cavaliers that settled Virginia, are to be found now, as then, foremost in business, social, religious and political affairs. From them have issued those who have made names that are referred to with pride in the conduct of state and national affairs. Although the “Mother of States,” and foremost in the making of American history, all of her children did not yield to the temptation of forsaking their birthright of fair lands, and it is the present generation that has made possible the splendid celebration commemorative of the first settlement of this country by their ancestors. It is small wonder, then, that all roads this year will lead to Tidewater Virginia and the Jamestown Ter-Centennial, which will throw open its gates to the world April 26. A PLEA Take you such gold as I have, old Time; ’Tis a trifling thing that you win; For what is gold but a sordid lure, All blotched with the blood of men? ’Tis little I care for the filthy stuff, And less is my need thereof; Take you such gold as I have, old Time, But leave me a little love! Take you the cold world’s praise, old Time; ’Tis hollow and false, I know; For Honor, at best, is an empty name, And Fame but a trumpet the foolish blow; Take them and bid them fly fast from me, Fly fast as a homing dove; Take you the cold world’s praise, old Time, But leave me a little love! Yea, leave me a little love, old Time, And take you all else you prize; For Love will sweeten the saddest heart Like a blossom from Paradise. ’Tis the goodliest gift of God to man, A treasure fine gold above; So, take you all else you prize, old Time, But leave me a little love! _Hilton R. Greer._ ONCE MORE THE DREAM By W. M. Shields Once more the dream! Once more the dream! That brings with undiminished gleam The light that shone upon my youth From regions of untarnished Truth. Before this stoic mockery, Called wisdom of maturity, Could dim the luster of its glow. Or ere its cares could stem the flow Of love from thy great heart to me— Thy heart of hills, my Tennessee. Once more the dream! Once more the dream! And all old things unaltered seem; Restored are joys I counted lost Beyond a time all worry-tossed. The streams yet wear a silver sheen Despite the years of change between; The bird songs have their olden thrill, The woods are cool upon the hill, And partial Nature smiles on thee, Who art her queen, my Tennessee.