Hunting Muscadines

(A Memory OF B OYHOOD .)

Floating on the gentle Yadkin in an olden-time canoe,
Singing old plantation ballads — I and charming blue-eyed Sue —
Blue-eyed, golden tress'd Sue.

Willows plume the shining river, and the birch a shadow flings
Far across its dimpled bosom. Down the shore her laughter rings —
Merry, rippling laughter rings.

Pendent dew-drops glitter brightly in the overhauging vines
Laden with a luscious treasure of large purple muscadines —
Ripe, delicious muscadines.

Sweetest grapes that ever clustered — purple juice on mouth and breast —
Pearly teeth and love and laughter! Fonder love was ne'er confessed —
Sweeter lips were never pressed.

Now we row from dappled shadows underneath the tangled vines
Up the sunny stream where all the radiance of the morning shines
O the purple muscadines!

Years may pass, but I can never cease to dream of blue-eyed Sue
And the morning on the Yadkin in the olden-time canoe —
Blue-eyed, golden tress'd Sue.
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