Old Kingston.

Dear, dreamy, quaint Old Kingston!

      Dark eyes with Southern glow

Shone from thy sleepy shutters

      In days of long ago.

While tropic sunlight filtered

      Through jalousies of green,

Another light flashed laughing

      From eyes that peeped between.

Dear, dreamy, quaint Old Kingston!

      They're building you anew;

But still from dark-green shutters

      The warm light filters through.

Still high brick walls forbidding,

      Sharp fringed with broken glass,

Hold many a stirring story;

      'Tis we are deaf, who pass.

What old forgotten legends

      Brought by the ocean breeze,

Sigh softly midst the branches

      Of lignum-vitae trees!

Deep archways, latticed porches,

      Stone floors, and winding stairs,

Still linger; yet, how different!

      Strange homes, and strange repairs,

Dear, dreamy, quaint Old Kingston!

      They're building you anew;

Again you'll stand forth proudly

      To face the Carib blue.

But something will be lacking,

      Some vanished charm, I know;

Perhaps those dark eyes smiling

     In days of long ago!

                                                                       TROPICA.

                                                                                            (Mary Adella Wolcott)

                                                                       Jamaica.

                                                                                                          Jamaica Times 1909 May 9 page 13 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                        (CLOSE)