I had a dream only last night --
A frightful thing to see,
It was a vision of those hanging on ancestral trees.
On all the trees were people
Whose all would proudly claim,
But, oh, so many others
Would only bring us shame.
On a limb beside a pious churchman, PART IV-Tennessee and Arkansas
I awoke and thought how much better
Was a convict clad in stripes,
Or underneath an Irishman
Was smoking a short black pipe.
On another limb a burgular and swag
Was making his get away;
On a limb above a saintly priest
Was kneeling down to pray.
It would take too long to describe them;
The great, the rich, the bad, the poor;
But the trees were so much alike,
Which was ours I couldn't be sure.
It would be if only we
Instead of looking for great ones
We have on our ancestral trees
We'd live such a life
That people would point and see
Us so good, or great, or kind, that we
Had a proud place on their family tree.
*By Harriet Belle (Jones) Delap
A Special Thank You To Cousins John and MaryAnne
TO MY HOMEPAGE
