The South


Like to the golden oriole’s hanging nest, her airy hammock swings, and through the dark her mocking-bird yet sings. Hers is the savage splendor of the swamp, with pomp of scarlet and of purple bloom, Where blow warm, furtive breezes faint and damp, strange insects whir, and stalking bitterns boom— Where from stale waters dead oft looms the great jawed alligator’s head.












wearing gold dress Zara, heels Acne Studios, makeup using MAC cosmetics 

excerpt from The South

Emma Lazarus, 1849 – 1887