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(To My Great, Great Grandchildren)
I shall not care for it, I'm sure,
Of being dead you know, my dears,
And hanging primly on the wall
Just looking on for years
No, I'm sure I shall not like
To be imprisoned there in paint
I, who loved being up-to date.
Shall never like just being quaint!
Of course, I'll do the proper thing
And I'll hang serene in my place
Beside your great-great Grandpa-
A wifely smile upon my face!
And you will all look up to me,
and believe no doubt, I was a saint-
And all my faults, of course, will be
All blotted out by time and paint.
No doubt your honored parents, dears
Will point my portrait out and say:
"Your great-great Granny would be shocked
Things were so different in her day"
And I'll not say a word, nor smile-
I'll look demure, show no surprise,
But dears, if you seek sympathy,
I think you 'll find it in my eyes!
And if you stand and look at me,
And wistful, wonder if I knew
The pain, the passioned stress
Of Life, as they are felt by you.
Come closer, dears, and never tell-
To you a secret I'll entrust,
Your flaming hearts have caught their fire
From your Great-Great Grandmother's dust.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Submitted by Mary Hinton Kerr
Warrenton, North Carolina
North Carolina Genealogical Magazine
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