Poem by local resident

Just twenty years ago

I stood and watched the sun go down

In a thousand-glinted glow.

I see the fleet of fishing boats,

Full many a moving speck.

I see the waves that gently break

On distant Marquise Neck.

The Reach, Point Moll and Latine

Are all beneath my eyes.

No scene of beauty like to this

I've seen in foreign skies.

What is that ugly creeping thing

Right where the house should be?

I guess the wheels of progress

Have been making sport of me.

The engine fires are burning now

Right where our hearth fire glowed.

The sleepers have replaced the bed

My mother fondly sowed.

Progress marches onwards,

And though my heart is sad,

I've delved into the future

And I cannot but be glad.

For the needs of future people

Often call for sorrow now.

My mead to those who follow

I must cheerfully allow.

All ye whose dreams and thoughts of home

Are tinged in a foreign land,

Come back betimes and visit it

While still the old home stands.

For you cannot know the heartache,

Or the bitter longing tell,

When only "memory" is left

Of the home you loved so well.