Panola, an electronic edition
- front matter
- epigraph
by Sarah A. Dorsey [Dorsey, Sarah A. (Sarah Anne), 1829-1879.]
date: 1877
source publisher: T. B. Peterson & Brothers
collection: Genre Fiction
< title page (full) |
| | 23
A seaside house to the farther
South,
Where the baked cicalas die of drouth,
And one sharp tree—'tis a cypress—stands
By the many hundred years red-rusted,
Rough, iron-spiked, ripe fruit o'er-crusted—
My sentinel to guard the sands
To the water's edge.
Some fragment of the frescoed walls
From blisters where a scorpion sprawls—
A girl bare-footed brings, and tumbles
Down on the pavement, green flesh melons."
BROWNING.
Where the baked cicalas die of drouth,
And one sharp tree—'tis a cypress—stands
By the many hundred years red-rusted,
Rough, iron-spiked, ripe fruit o'er-crusted—
My sentinel to guard the sands
To the water's edge.
* * * * * * *
While in the house forever crumblesSome fragment of the frescoed walls
From blisters where a scorpion sprawls—
A girl bare-footed brings, and tumbles
Down on the pavement, green flesh melons."
BROWNING.
"We are the sum of our
ancestors—plus—ourselves."
ANNE SEEMULLER.