Trouble is the dowry of every man's birth
A nettle adversity flings us.
It yields to the grip of the masterful
hand.
When we play around, it stings us.
Nancy Jane Wiley Hill (1875-1960) was always writing something. Many of those poems are now in the possession of her granddaughter Shirley Kern. Shirley, with the help of her sister-in-law Ruth Ormsby, transcribed these poems in 1996 for a Hill-Ormsby-Kern family reunion. I am going to post many of these poems so that they may be enjoyed by all.
These are copyright 1996 and reprinted with permission.
These are copyright 1996 and reprinted with permission.
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