Page:Memories of Virginia.djvu/42

 A name not written on the sand, But on the hearts of founding men; Who with their deeds make history Regardless of the record pen. Turn back the leaves of time today, Recall Smith mariners of old, The tempest tossed who reached Old Point, Who came to seize, who came to hold. Great Powhatan, the monarch king, Who welcomed Smith and his brave band, Foresaw the aim of Vikings bold In quest of gold, in quest of land. Jamestown the white man's cradle home, Historic town of founding days, In Pocahontas found a friend, To cast o'er Smith protecting rays. Child of the Sun, with heart of gold, With heroes courage undefiled, A daughter of the wilderness, A Princess of the forest wild.

Recall the story of the James, The legend of the famous river; The romance of the Indian girl, The keynote—then as now—"Forever." The marriage of the forest child, To lure her from her father's home; A marriage of diplomacy, To secure terms with Great Powhatan. The princess pined for kith and kin; Yet loyal from an English view. Her heart turned back to Accomack, The call of blood she heard was true. She died in England, "The Beloved," She left a son of honored name: Sir Thomas Rolfe of British birth, His sire, John Rolfe, of Jamestown fame.