BowDoiN Verse A? -'3 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM Cony Sturgis arW38679'""'"' ""'™"""' "-'""^ Bowdoin verse : ,. 3 1924 031 782 547 olin.anx M. 14 Cornell University 5if Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031782547 Bowdoin Verse BOWDOIN VERSE A COLLECTION OF POEMS CONTRIBUTED BY STUDENTS AND ALUMNI TO THE UNDERGRADUATE PUBLICATIONS OF BOWDOIN WITHIN THE PAST FIFTEEN YEARS Selected and Published by JOHN CLAIR MINOT OF THE CLASS OF 1896 1907 KENNEBEC JOURNAL PRINT Augusta, Maine f\i^n^1 Introduction X HIS little volume contains a few more than one hundred poems which have appeared within the past fifteen years in the undergraduate publications of Bowdoin College, some of them contributed by alumni but most of them written by those who were at the time students at the college. Nearly all of them are in serious vein, contrary perhaps to the popular conception of what is most common in col- lege verse. In selecting them it has been the aim to take not only those which seemed of exceptional merit, but also particularly those in which the theme was the college or some phase of college life. There are in the collection a number of poems by alumni of recognized literary ability — Isaac Bassett Choate '62, Professor Chapman '66, Judge Webster '67, Professor Johnson '74, and Arlo Bates '76 — but it should be understood that in each instance these, as well as all other poems in the volume, have been especially contributed to the undergraduate publi- cations in recent years and that they have not iv Introduction appeared elsewhere. It may be that as the verses of some of the younger contributors are read the opinion will be expressed that the fires of poetic genius have burned very low on Bowdoin's campus since the time when Longfellow gained his early inspiration beneath its whispering pines. Be that as it may, it is hoped the reader will find even in the work of these younger writers an occasional touch of genuine poetry. It will not be denied that much of their verse is graceful ; nor does it lack honesty, that prime essential of all sound art. That several of my own productions are included in the following pages is something for which I pray to be forgiven. Their appearance here may be regarded as a concession to the memory of the time when I contributed many such to the Orient in the years before the Quill came into existence. I wish to express my warm appreciation of the encourage- ment and kind suggestions given me by Professor Chapman. J. C. M. Augusta, Maine. March i, 1907. \^OMEf read to me somepoeniy Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters. Not from the bards sublime. Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. Pory like strains of martial music. Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor; A nd to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, fVhose songs gushed from his heart. As showers from the clouds of summer Or tears from the eyelids start. Longfellow, 'as Contents PAGE The Garden of Memory, Thayer, '95 13 A Bowdoin Winter Night, Cleaves, '05 15 Old Bowdoin, Peabody, 'jy 16 Failure, Bates, '76 18 The Sexton, Sills, '01 iq The Old Room, Minot, 'g6 20 Go, Heart, Choate, '62 23 To-morrow, Thayer, 'g^ 24 The Hermit Thrush, Lee, igoo 25 A Night in June, Pierce, 'p6 26 Hawthorne, Chapman, '66 27 Lost Jewels, Webster, '6j 28 The Masquerade, Nason, 'gg 29 Sonnet, Johnson, '7^ 32 Beside My Grate, Minot, 'g6 33 Anteros, Powers, '08 34 Penelope, Thayer, '95 35 A Note for a Nosegay, Webber, igoo 36 Carmen Seculare, Cole, 'J4 38 To-morrow is Another Day, Choate, '62 41 The Pines, Sewall, '06 42 Hubbard Hall, Cleaves, 'oj 44 Odin's Grave, Bates, 'y6 45 Tennyson, Andrews, 'g4 46 viii Contents JMe, Johnson, '06 47 Who Paints the Lily ? Choate, '6z 48 My Guest, Thayer, '95 5° Day by Day, Peterson, ^06 51 The Old House, Pierce, '96 52 Desolation, Minot, 'g6 55 Winter Song, Sewall, '06 5^ Time, Andrews, '94 57 By Bowdoin's Woods, Cleaves, 'os 58 Thomas Brackett Reed, Chapman, '66 59 Ballade of " English B, " Nason, '99 60 Pansy Song, Chase, '05 62 Veni I/Ux, Pierce, 'p6 63 Toys of Clay, Minot, '96 65 Magic of the Sea, Choate, '62 66 Revelation, Gross, 'oz 67 Ye Scholar in Love, Churchill, 'gs 68 Sonnet, McKeen, '64 69 Two Songs, Thayer, '95 70 A Hunting Song, Clough, igoo 71 Unfinished, Snow, 'oy 73 Beyond, Thayer, '95 74 The Carved Name, Minot, '96 75 King Chapel, Lawrence, 'g8 76 Inner Vision, Choate, '6z 77 The True Fame, Cleaves, '05 78 Historical Perspective, Andrews, '94 79 Sonnet, Johnson, '74 80 Youth to Its Own, Fogg, 'oz 81 The Song of the Fisher, Stover, '03 82 Contents ix Under the Mistletoe, Nason, 'gp 83 A Love Toast, Kimball, 'g2 85 When Thou Art Near, Thayer, '95 86 Witches' Town, Bates, 'j6 87 Ballade of Bowdoin Pines, Minot, 'g6 88 Morning and Evening, Sewall, '06 90 The Violin, Bridgham, '04 ... 91 Point Tupelo, Peabody, 'pj ... 92 Hawthorne, Cleaves, '05 93 The Past and the Future, Webster, '67 94 By Lake Biwa, Choate, '6z 95 A Prayer, Sewall, '06 96 To a Humming Bird, Gross, '02 97 In Bowdoin Chapel, Holmes, '80 98 The Unchanging Life, Thayet, '95 . 99 From the Gates, Porter, '06 loi Keep Thou Our Lips, Chase, '05 102 Driftwood, Minot, '96 103 The Coming Certitude, Andrews, '94 . 104 When the Day's Work is Done, Emery, '05 ... . 105 Song of the Deserted Ports, Webber, igoo 106 The Singer, Choate, '62 108 '■Peace, Be Still, " Z^^, /900 109 The Oak's Farewell, Stover, '03 no In Unison, C%oa/i?, ^62 113 The True Quest, Cleaves, '05 114 An Old Saw, Cole, '74 115 Quo Vadis, Domine, Lee, igoo . . 116 Tte-t Btarmn&hA, Emery, 'as 117 The Escape of Belcour, iJato, '76 118 X Contents Eventide, Clough, igoo 120 Omar Khayyam, Pierce, 'g6 121 A Lost Harp, Peabody, 'gs 122 Untenanted, Webster, 'gg 123 Common Campus Posies, Webber, igoo 124 Ship of Fancy, Choate, '62 126 Alcestis, Sills, '01 128 Ivife, Clough, igoo 129 h-^^Sit-arn., Andrews, 'g^ 130 Beneath the Mistletoe, Marble, 'g8 131 The Bride's Bouquet, Powers, '08 132 The Pines at Night, Clough, igoo 133 "With Burns, Kimball, 'gz 134 Deep Calm, Gross, 'oz 135 The Isles of Fancy, Stover, '03 136 A Woodland Echo, Thayer, '95 138 Evening Breezes, Clough, igoo 140 Seniors' Last Chapel, Lawrence, 'gS 141 Bowdoin Verse THE GARDEN OF MEMORY ^O far away it lieth, where No human footsteps fall, And ivy dark with myrtle creeps Over its mouldering wall. Within, a fountain softly weeps For faded summer skies, And on the mossy marble steps A broken pitcher lies. Amidst the fragrant leaf-clad trees The flickering sunbeams glow. And bear deep-hidden in their warmth The smiles of long ago. Daisies and buttercups, that once Filled childish arms at play. Are blooming there, and near them reigns The rose of yesterday. 14 Bowdoin Verse And youth's long-faded daffodils Yet nod in favored spots, While 'neath the lilac's shade there grow The blue forget-me-nots. There gently falls at eventide The dew of long-shed tears, And in the shadowy, grass-grown paths There walk the vanished years. Harvey Waterman Thayer, '95 Bowdoin Verse 15 A BOWDOIN WINTER NIGHT J-/ ADEN with the snow Fallen since the noon, Illumined by the glow Of the winter moon, The leafless trees o'erflow With the blossom-light of June. The paths are garden bowers ; Each hall a palace rare. The chapel flecked with flowers, Kneeling, soft-robed and fair. Lifts its white twin-towers Like hands upraised in prayer. Chari,es Pooi,e Ci,eaves, '05 1 6 Bowdoin Verse OLD BOWDOIN xjl. title of honor, a glorious name, You've heard the world speak it, " Old Bowdoin." But what do we care for the glory and fame — They are not the half of old Bowdoin ! The heart is piled high with memories sweet Of hope-haunted halls where the centuries meet, Of life that is reckoned in hours too fleet — And that's what we mean by old Bowdoin. There's never a wind that could sigh in her pines; For who could be sad at old Bowdoin ? Forever the day on her twin spires shines ; Light never could fail at old Bowdoin. O, sons of our Mother, a garland prepare, A chaplet of laurel and palm let her wear ! Then, too, let the vine and the cedar be there, For gladness and life to old Bowdoin ! Then whether you drink, let it stiffen your heart To a sturdier joy in old Bowdoin, And whether you smoke, let its fragrance impart To the fancies of love and old Bowdoin. Bowdoin Verse 17 And whether you stand with the low or the high, And whether you live, yea, and whether you die, Forever and ever re-echo the cry — All hail, Alma Mater, old Bowdoin 1 Ci(ARENCE Webster Peabody, '93 1 8 Bowdoin Verse FAILURE AvECKON thy gains by failure, since success May measure but attempt too low to fail, In that which is of earth may might avail ; He who would grasp the stars works guerdonless. The gods and heroes wrought with mighty stress, And of the end sad muses chant the tale ; Their loss and passion moan in every gale, — They can but fail who fight for perfectness. Yet of the soul's endeavor be the test Not what is won, but what it is in sooth ; That verity divine within the breast Failure's ennobling mark commends to ruth Of little minds, too blind to know the best. Who has not failed, he has not fought for truth ! Ari^o Bates, '76 Bowdoin Verse 19 THE SEXTON J\. FAIR and strapping youth was he, I met him by the gate, With spade full long and strong he toiled And toiled till it was late. I watched him for a little space, I wondered at the scene ; The sun lit up the quiet stones, Long shadows streaked the green. "And how fare all your dead to-day } " I asked, nor asked in vain. " In truth, sir, they make no complaints " — I turned me down the lane. Kenneth C. M. Sii,i,s, '01 30 Bowdoin Verse THE OLD ROOM X IS an old and faded picture of a room in Appleton, And it thrills my heart to see it with a pleasure that is pain ; And I forget the changes of the years that hurry on, And find myself at Bowdoin in that old room again. The desk is in the corner with the bookcase standing near, And the window with the little panes is open to the west; And, sitting there beside them with the pose of Junior year, I see an idle student, in cap and sweater dressed. Some half a dozen pictures keep the desk from being bare, And half a dozen others are tacked upon the wall ; And all are maidens' pictures and all of them are fair. And the happy Bowdoin Junior is sure he loves them all. The open grate looks cheerful, but the fire is surely out, 'Twas a trick it often played us, though my roommate was to blame. Bowdoin Verse 21 Those signs upon the mantel were swiped, beyond a doubt ; Some college fashions alter, but this is still the same. That little piece of bell-rope was taken Freshman year ; That strip of rival banner was a Sophomoric gain ; That horn was in the concert — alas ! the tale we hear, Of all the good old customs they won't let one remain. There are books upon the table and piled up in the case ; And some, 'tis plain to notice, are scattered on the floor; Not all are learned volumes, as should be in such place, A few, no doubt, are " horses," and the Junior yearns for more. The delegation picture is hanging plain and high. With the dear old class beside it — where are those boys to-day ? Diverging wide and wider their various pathways lie, But a common bond unites them that will not wear away. 'Tis an old and faded picture of a room in Appleton, And it thrills my heart to see it with a pleasure that is pain; For Time has wrought his changes and the dear old room is gone, And, like the days passed in it, cannot be mine again. 22 Bowdoin Verse And so the eye gets misty, while the Junior in his chair Sits dreaming o'er those happy dreams that long ago were mine. I seem to feel the campus breeze that stirs the curtain there, And o'er my soul comes stealing the perfume of the pine. John Ci,air Minot, '96 Bowdoin Verse 23 GO, HEART G< rO, Heart, when wakes with morning bright A world to conscious being ! Go, Heart, and share that world's delight To watch the shadows fleeing ! Behold with rapture-flooded eyes The sun in gorgeous splendor rise Into the glory of the skies ; — Dear Heart, be glad with seeing ! Go, Heart, when thrushes call elate At royal day's appearing ! Go, Heart, when veery sings his mate In simple notes endearing ! List how the woods about us ring With songs these happy minstrels sing — What joy the beams of morning bring ! Dear Heart, be glad with hearing ! Isaac Bassett Choate, '62 24 Bowdoin Verse TO-MORROW n. ER face is fair As summer skies when loved ones press Our hands ; the whole world's loveliness Is gathered there. Her voice is low And sweet — the echo far away Of song-birds' strains at break of day And brooklet's flow. Though oft we hear The rustling of her robes, and seem To feel, beneath the dawn-star's beam, Her presence near, Though with us long And leading on with hope's swift pace, No man has ever seen her face. Or heard her song. Harvey Waterman Thayer, '95 Bowdoin Verse 25 THE HERMIT THRUSH 1~J EEP in the woods where once I strolled alone, I heard a song that seemed at first divine, So clear and true did note with note combine. So far ethereal was its magic tone. But when I looked to see the sweet unknown. The singer ceased his lay. No search of mine Could find a trace of him, save 'neath a pine The nest whence he and his shy mate had flown. Ah me ! How many noble souls there are Whom, richly song-endowed, the world knows not; Who flee and hide from public gaze afar To sing scarce heeded save by God ! Their lot Too happy for ambitious hopes to mar ; — And, singing, brighten some dark, lonely spot. Frederick Crosby Lee. 1900 26 Bowdoin Verse A NIGHT IN JUNK "T A IS night upon the campus and o'er all The full round moon sheds down its mellow light ; It softly silvers gray Memorial Hall, And where the weirdly silent moonbeams fall Each elm stands forth a specter of the night. I wander on the campus paths once more, And here and there steals through a window-pane. Where studious someone cons to-morrow's task A lamplight gleam from Appleton or Maine. The lamp-glow mingles softly with the moon — Oh blessed night of summer-breathing June ! Hark ! Falls upon the ear a burst of song, The vagrant snatches of a half-caught strain, The clink of glasses floats the air along And brings our college memories back again. Oh ! music blessed to the longing ear. The clink of friendship's glass that brings the tear ! Oh ! music blessed to the listening heart. The voice of friends whom time has forced apart ! hbnry Hii,i< Pierce, '96 Bowdoin Verse 27 HAWTHORNE L± IS boyhood breathed the silence of the hills, And of the woods a certain shyness caught ; Under the lingering spell of these he wrought Through all his youth ; a cloistered fancy fills With charm the tales told twice, — as unseen rills Make music in a meadow ; when he sought More openly the ways of men, he brought To them a tale whose pathos stirs and stills. The tragedy that hides from human ken, The shame whose outward brand is felt within, The Spirit's path with shadows overcast, — Of these he wrote, as with a prophet's pen ; He seemed a stranger to the world's fierce din, Walking with shadowy figures of the past. Hbnry Leland Chapman, '66 28 Bowdoin Verse LOST JEWELS .ixN empty casket, poor and dim With rust of bygone days, Yet, from beneath that battered rim, What jewels used to blaze. For emerald bright as was the green Which smiled to summer skies, And pearls as lustrous as the sheen Of laughter-laden eyes. And rubies like the hues of health On youth's fair cheek that shine, And diamonds radiant as the wealth Of new-born love were mine. But while I fought from sun to sun In life's bewildering fray, A robber came, and one by one He bore my gems away. O Time, you thief, restore the spoil Which once I held in fee : He heeds me not, nor tears nor toil Can win it back to me. Henry Sewai,i< Webster, '67 Bowdoin Verse 29 THE MASQUERADE JL HE wintry winds blow wild without. But in the hall 'tis all alight ; 'Tis mirth and music all about: We hold our masquerade to-night. The music rang in prelude sweet ; And Bo-Peep with her shepherd's crook, The gallant Mephistopheles, Low bowing, as his partner took And led the march adown the hall ; While lads and lassies, two and two, Around, about, and in and out. The circling figure followed through. What though the winds blow wild without ? Within the hall 'tis all alight ; ' Tis mirth and music all about : We hold our masquerade to-night. The student grave in gown of black. The Gipsy girl with tambourine. The farmer with his carpet-bag, The Grecian maiden, here are seen. 30 Bowdoin Verse Sir Walter Raleigh passes by ; The Mexic girl; with hair of brown ; The fair illusion " Marjory Daw ; " The pop-corn girl ; the nimble clown. 'Tis March and Circle, Lancers gay, The dreamy Waltz, the Polka's glide, And " Tucker " with its romp and rout, Or Schottische with its trip and slide ; The Portland Fancy's merry whirl. The Waltz again, or Two-Step light. 'Tis mirth and music all about. We hold our masquerade to-night. And figures fair and figures brave Flit through the gay enchanted scene : Quaint Mother Goose in scarlet gown, The guardsmen with their gallant mein, The wood-nymph and the flower-girl. The major with mustaches gray, " Old Uncle S., " in starry vest. The Georgian, and the jester gay. What though the winds blow wild without i Within the hall 'tis all alight ; 'Tis mirth and music all about : We hold our masquerade to-night. Bowdoin Verse 31 The witching hours wane too soon, The music dies with lingering strain, The dancers leave the world of dreams To live the world of life again. Oh, many a wintry wind has blown, And many a masker far has strayed. But still, mid memories sweet, we own The glamor of that masquerade. Arthur Huntington Nason, '99 32 Bowdoin Verse SONNET 1 LOOKED into the face of Death and saw No sorrow in the eyes, no sullen mood, But only passive waiting as he stood Beside me as I wrought in life my law. Tell the old lie of you and stand in awe Of a mere nothing, neither bad nor good ? I breathe one living breath, and head and hood, Gray mantle, all, melts into air. Then pshaw On idle versing of the idle theme ! But who can say that truth may not be hid In this for you, whom ages made to scan This line and pass, I pray, no more to dream Mere dying into some dread shape, but bid All hail, O Future, as becomes a man. Henry Johnson, '74 Bowdoin Verse 33 BESIDE MY GRATE B ESIDE my grate is peace and rest ; I close my book ; the hour is late ; Of all the world this spot is best, Beside my grate. The March wind rattles at the gate, And brings the storm, unwelcome guest ; The rain comes with increasing rate. God pity those to-night in quest Of warmth and light refused by fate; And let thanksgiving fill my breast, Beside my grate. John Clair Minot, '96 34 Bowdoin Verse ANTEROS -ixNTEROS is my name, The god of passion I. I lift men to the sky ; Then drop them down to shame And leave them there to die. With songs of soft desire I tempt the young and old — The timid and the bold — I touch their hearts with fire, Then leave them dead and cold. My kisses strong as wine Are sweet as roses' breath, But stab with pain beneath, And though all life is mine To give, — my gift is death. Paul Hussey Powers, 'o8 Bowdoin Verse 35 PENELOPE A SEE her sitting in the morning sun That makes a halo of her golden hair, And lights with longing fires the eyes so fair, Grown dim with watching for the lingering one. The sails are gleaming on the shining sea. The roving waves are laughing at her feet, And far away she hears, so faint and sweet. The rowers singing in their morning glee. The sea-birds wheel and circle o'er the tide With swift and gleaming wings their distant flight. And yet no message bring they from the height That folds the wanderer from his loved one's side. Her hands are weary and her heart is sad. She weaves in vain the fated web that seems A burial shroud to her, and longing dreams Of him whose face alone would make her glad. Far in the spring-time of the earth, apart She stands, cloud-wrapped in mythic mists, and yet Through all the years the world cannot forget The loving sorrows of one faithful heart. Harvey Waterman Thayer, '95 36 Bowdoin Verse NOTE FOR A NOSEGAY LI ERE are bonnie flowers, Plucked for you to-day, Born of April showers In the month of May. In the sward they nestled. Close to Mother Earth ; With the breeze they wrestled From their day of birth. Frail they are and tender. Yet the wilful wind From their stemlets slender Could not them unbind. Vain each bonny blossom. Pink and white and blue, Strove to play the 'possum. Hiding from my view. For, where'er I wander. What's alike to thee, Deeply though I ponder. Ne'er escapeth me. Bowdoin Verse 37 Put them in your chamber For a day or two. Would that you'd remember Who remembered you ! Plucked the bonnie flowers Sent to you to-day, Bom of April showers In the month of May. James Plaist^d Webber, 1900 38 Bowdoin Verse CARMEN SECULARE A HESE voices, the familiar solemn two, Have pierced the distance of the centuries through — Here still the river and the pine remain. Along the earth and air, and far around, There steals an age-long music in the sound With which they break the silence of the plain. Ah, who can find the one eternal rhyme Which runs through all things to the end of time — The Song of Ages, filling day and night .? If faith be silent, or of little worth. Which one of all the voices upon earth Can sing the mystery of the years aright ? The Fates would sing it to their spindles, when The threads ran golden in the lives of men ; The cold Fates, faltering at their task, are gone; Chance tried it, but her heart died in the vast ; All things return to one sure voice at last, — Faith sang in the beginning, and sings on : Bowdoin Verse 39 " River and pine, earth and the turning spheres, Life, knowledge, power, the history of the years. Peace, and invention, and war's fearful din, — One law holds all ; for even the wrath of man Is overruled and fitted to the plan To bring at last the happy ages in. O, time is not from stone to bronze and gold. Then round again, in wearying cycles rolled ; The course runs onward ever to one goal. Which glimmers like a star upon the height ; Thither, directed by the silent might Of an eternal purpose, moves the Whole. " And thus, as ever adding to the strain, 'Twas faith that set this college in the plain. And blessed it, on a far-off summer day. One stopped to slip an acorn in the ground, "That both may grow together and abound, " He said, and with the others went his way. Thou, Bowdoin, with thy oak tree, hast grown strong, Put forth great arms, and been the home of song ; A tree of life and knowledge hast thou stood Voicing the heavenly whispers ; and there flames Thy Golden Branch of world-renowned names Conspicuous in tlie shadow of the wood. 40 Bowdoin Verse Mother of men, thy children greet thee now, The glory of one century on thy brow. The fresh light of another in thy eyes, — They proudly greet thee, and the whole land hears : Live on, lead on, in the new hundred years, A mightier voice where still the true way lies ! Samuei, Vai,entine Cole, '74 Bowdoin Verse 41 TO-MORROW IS ANOTHER DAY Vy VER mossy stone and mound Where the amaranth is found, — From the footsteps not a sound — Slowly shadows creep around, And Love sings, " Will Sorrow — Will Sorrow here forever stay ? " And Hope sings, "To-morrow — To-morrow is another day. " Life is checquered, hopes and fears Alternate as smiles and tears. Through the rain the sun appears. And from time to time one hears How Love sings, "Will Sorrow — Will Sorrow here forever stay ? " And Hope sings, " To-morrow — To-morrow is another day. " Isaac Bassett Choate, '62 42 Bowdoin Verse THE PINES JL HIS is the song the pine trees sing. As the days and the weeks and the months go by, And the south wind bears their words away To the city's crush, to the white-capped bay ; And the north wind sweeps their words away O'er the frozen wastes of the northern way, Where cold lights flash in the cold, clear sky. " We are the lords of the silent wood. Beneath our limbs the tree-tops sway. Our hands stretch up to the changing sky, While we whisper sweet when west winds sigh. While we wail in grief when storm-winds fly, When the storm-king comes and throws on high While waves in the distant dreary bay. " We sing to you in the far off mart The song of comfort and cheery home ; When you wandered long through the gleaming wood, When your heart was young and life was good, When nature's breath was your spirit's food. And her sunny mood was your joyful mood. E'er you went away from this, your home. Bowdoin Verse 43 " We cry to you in the frost-white north, Come back, come back, from its wind-swept plain, Come back to your friends, with their welcoming hands, Come back where your own home woodland stands. As you wish, as your innermost soul commands. But yield yourself to its demands. Let us not call to you alway in vain ! " And so forever the pine trees sing. And so forever call back again Those who have dwelt in their tender care, Those who have known their father-like care. Those who have loved them standing there Ever swaying with the swaying air — So call us back to themselves again. James Wingate Sewai,!,, 'o6 44 Bowdoin Verse HUBBARD HALL AjL ere Art has planned and Labor made complete A worthy temple of the human mind. The thoughts and visions of the ages meet To shape the soul, to make a life replete With wisdom serviceable to mankind. Within, without, a thousand fancies greet The quickened mind. Thus 'twas God-designed. Chari,es Pooi,e Cleaves, '05 Bowdoin Verse 45 ODIN'S GRAVE A N that far place of mighty sepulchres Where the dead gods are laid, row after row ; That dim, mist-muffled shore where ebb and flow The long, dull tides of time ; where voyagers Come but with Death for pilot ; no wind stirs. Nor any stars through the grey twilight glow ; Where never tiniest leaf nor blade may grow. But lichen black as soot the swart stone furs ; Great Odin lies. And all mankind forget How he for wisdom drank of Mimer's well, And knew the sun of his high race must set In Twilight of the Gods ; yet wrought his best For helpless man, and took whate'er befell. So sleeps for aye ; forgot, but not unblest. Ari,o Bates, '76 46 Bowdoin Verse TENNYSON B, ►EYOND the bare, brown, distant fields The autumn sun sinks to his rest ; His brilliant glories stain the west, Then fade, and day to darkness yields. On withered life and withered leaf The gaze has rested through the day ; Now idle tears are wiped away. At sunset comes a deeper grief. So slowly sank the mighty light That on men's hearts its radiance shed ; The light that quickened life is dead. And on men's hearts there steals a night. Harry Edwin Andrews, '94 ^ ^ Bowdoin Verse 47 LIFE xjL few small hours of change betimes To cheer the heart ; A long drear waste of dull routine The larger part. A sense of incompleteness still Presents its pall, — But one clear note of richest Hope Interprets all. William Treby Johnson, '06 48 Bowdoin Verse WHO PAINTS THE LILY? VV HO paints the lily's cup ? Conceives its fair design ? Who holds its fragile calyx up With gift of ruby wine ? Before the lily sees Red sun of summer shine Her petals all are dyed to please As erst in Palestine. Who 'neath the winter's snow Preserved the happy thought, And in those chambers dark below A thing of beauty wrought ? Whose skill was it, — we ask, Lay tint on line and spot ? Who never once about his task The rich design forgot ? Who to the ripening seed Gave flattering promise clear That lilies fair in flowery mead Should bloom the coming year ? Bowdoin Verse 49 Enough it is for me To find the Uly here, And in the perfect calyx see That steadfast Thought appear. Isaac Bassett Choate, '62 50 Bowdoin Verse MY GUEST 30 sorrowful and wan, the face appears A deep, reflecting only sunless skies ; And strands of midnight hair hang low o'er eyes Whose dusky depth seems wells of endless tears. The resting place of care and haunting fears. Upon the pallid lips a trace there lies Of smiles long dead that grief has turned to sighs. The hopeless longings for the vanished years. Out of the shadowy caverns of the past She glides and seeks an entrance to my heart, Her presence dark'ning paths where sometimes stray Forgetf ulness and peace, and gloom is cast O'er me, as sad I greet, while tear-drops start. The memory of a joy long fled away. Harvey Waterman Thayer, '95 Bowdoin Verse 51 DAY BY DAY X HIS day, O Father, Thou hast given me ; I'll rest, look up, sing, pray and worship Thee. This day begins another week of work ; Lord, I'll be brave and not one duty shirk. This day may bring me changes, sweet or sad ; Lord, I'll be patient and in Thee be glad. This day the tempter may entice my heart ; Lord, I will love and so resist his art. This day dark doubts may make the way seem long ; Lord, I'll believe and in Thy light be strong. This day my neighbor may have grief or need ; Lord, I'll be kind and help with word and deed. This day another week has passed away ; I'm tired, Lord — to-morrow is Thy day. Oscar Peterson, '06 52 Bowdoin Verse THE OLD HOUSE JJACK from the busy street it stands, Under the dear old elms, And the city's bustle is on both hands, The noise and the jostle of toiling bands, And the rattle that never ends. But the old house stands with its red brick walls And a quiet peace is in all its halls. As it seems to echo still The memory of the old, old days. Visions of stately old-fashioned ways. And the things of long ago. The knocker of bronze on the old oak door Could tell full many a tale Of fair women and gallant men of yore. Of children's voices now no more, As it bows a grave salute To the great rusted key in the ponderous lock, While the iron latch replies to the knock. Seemingly pondering yet Memories of the old, old days. Visions of prim old-fashioned ways, And the things of long ago. Bowdoin Verse 53 The flower-pots on the window sill, So old and quaint and red, Hold quiet, old-fashioned flowers still ; Fern and primrose the windows fill. And modest mignonette ; And a strange, sweet odor fills the room — Forgotten flowers, all in bloom. That whisper and murmur still The memories of the dear old days Till you seem encircled in a maze Of happenings long ago. In the broad and long oak-panelled hall. Toward the garden door at the end. Prim portraits look down from either wall, Breathing men and women all, In the days of long ago. And the creaking stair beneath your tread. Still gracefully winding overhead. Repeats and echoes again The steps of fair maidens of other days. And you feel yourself amid a haze Of faces of long ago. Old house, with thy nameless, fathomless charm. Under the dear old elms, So peaceful, so serenely calm. Oh, may the future stretch its arm 54 Bowdoin Verse Protectful o'er thy head, And still a restful haven seem Where one might ever sleep and dream Of days of long ago, Of women grand and maidens fair^ Of dimpled cheeks and golden hair, And the days of long ago. Henry Hii,i, Pierce, '96 Bowdoin Verse 55 DESOLATION M. .ORE dreary scene may I ne'er know — The sea of gray ; of gray the sky ; No sign of hfe to meet the eye, Save far in air a single crow That flaps along and looks below To where the barren Cockles lie — Those lonely reefs — and hurries by. No sound is there for ear to know, Save when each wave with sluggish swell Makes float out on the gloomy air The fog-bell's mournful, solemn knell. And wreckwood from a ship once fair That failed to heed or hear that bell Lies rotting on the lone reef there. John Ci,air Minot, '96 56 Bowdoin Verse WINTER SONG VJOOD fire that crackles so, Keep us warm ! While in circles whirls the snow, While outside the bleak winds blow, While frost eddies come and go, Breathe your charm. Good fire that crackles so. Here is food, Birch logs that afar did grow, Red coals make that fall below, Red gleams through the shadows throw. God is good ! Good fire that crackles so. By thy light We safe to our slumbers go. Let the wild wind rave and blow. Still give forth your brightest glow. So, good night. James Wingate Sewai,!,, '06 Bowdoin Verse 57 TIME U OWN cavern-corridors of hollow stone, Searching with puzzled heart along the ray That flickers from his torch in grewsome play, A stranger passes through the dark, alone. He glimpses walls beside him shadow strown — A mica-flake glints there amidst the gray ; The rest is night. And as he peers his way The echoes of his footsteps moan and moan. Even so this consciousness of ours flows on Beneath this Now that ever spans its flow — A gliding light athwart eternity. The way of buried days that we have gone Marks with the faithful way we have to go One interfused, silent mystery. Harry Edwin Andrews, '94 58 Bowdoin Verse BY BOWDOIN'S WOODS xjlPART from stress of life and strenuous crowd, Rapt with the stillness of the winter night, Down the long forest aisle, through pine and fir, I pass in solitude. Snow draped and pure, in humble whiteness bowed. Touched by the low moon's sacramental light. Each grove breathes music, and each aperture A sacred interlude. Sainted by long communion with their God These trees historic sanctify the night ; And in their midst I feel the thrill and stir Of their beatitude. Charles Pooi,e Cleaves, '05 Bowdoin Verse 59 THOMAS BRACKETT REED X HE chaplet that we lay upon his bier He wrought himself, against his burial day ; Men look upon it proudly, and they say, " These were his virtues while he still was here. " Courage that shone without a fleck of fear ; Integrity like sunlight on his way ; Strength that could keep the violent at bay. And kindliness that ever drew them near. Wit winged the speech which Intellect controlled, And in the nation's council he was hailed As one that spoke for country, not for self. When the fierce waves of passion round him rolled, Calmly he stood, unheeding those who railed, Unmoved by clamor, unseduced by pelf. Henry Leland Chapman, '66 6o Bowdoin Verse BALLADE OF "ENGLISH B" (Harvard Summer School) W HEN " English B " makes my pencil fly, And rough drafts litter my desk and floor, When my hand is weary and brain awry, And a "daily theme " is a blooming bore : Then comes a tap at my chamber door ; And two little maids as it swings ajar. Present their plea that my task give o'er To the tinkle and thrump of my blithe guitar. So I sing them a song of the days gone by. Of the college that stands 'neath the pine trees hoar, " Bowdoin Beata " or " Old Phi Chi " — Sophomore slogan since 'sixty-four — Or a marching song from our Chapter lore With rollicking chorus and loud hurrah : And with mine two childish voices soar To the tinkle and thrump of my blithe guitar. But as darkness spreads in the August sky. Our mood is changed, and from memory's store I play them a dreamy lullaby Of the poppies that nod on the moonlit shore Bowdoin Verse 6i Sung to slumber by waves galore In purling ripples ; until mamma Says two little maids must hear no more Of the tinkle and thrump of my blithe guitar. Sirs : Your wandering troubadour Is back at his theme ; but his thoughts are far On two little faces that danced before The tinkle and thrump of his blithe guitar. Arthur Huntington Nason, '99 62 Bowdoin Verse PANSY SONG /jL bunch of purple pansies In a marble vase, A wondrous secret lurking In each thoughtful face. " Tell us, purple pansies. What's the secret deep That your Mother Nature Gave to you to keep ? " " The secret of the springtime, Of bud and twig and leaf, — In May the tiny seed-grain, In fall the ripened sheaf." " And will you not, sweet pansies, Reveal your Mother's lore ? " " Not till all the springtimes And all the falls are o'er." A bunch of pansies nodding O'er a marble vase, A wondrous secret lurking In each pansy face. Stanley Perkins Chase, '05 Bowdoin Verse 63 VENI LUX VV E stood on the beach together At the coining of the day, Where the ebbing surge of the Ocean Was hungry and short of breath ; The mist from over the waters Was chill and thick and gray, On the leadened shore it shivered Like the icy sweat of death. The east was gray with morning That deadened the watchers' light. How the Ocean moaned in travail As it wept on the beach's swell ! And still the thick gnarled fir-trees Gloomed black with the dying night, And the unrepentant waters Sobbed deep like a soul in Hell. ' So we stood on the beach together Till the sea-damp pierced the bone — But see ! On the eastern horizon How the salt mists melt away ! 64 Bowdoin Verse On the desert face of the waters The orb of the Sun-God shone. Hail ! Radiance of the Morning ! The glorious Break of Day ! And so in a world of twilight We pray for the break of day ! For the fog of creeds has wrapped us In the deadly chill of night ; But the sun Osiris dawning Shall burst the clouds away ! Who gropes in the doubt and darkness ? Who strains to the coming light ? Henry Hrw, Pierce, '96 Bowdoin Verse 65 TOYS OF CLAY J UST below the toiling town I saw a child to-day, With busy little hands of brown Making toys of clay. Working there with all his heart, Beneath the spreading trees. He moulded with unconscious art Whatever seemed to please. Men and fortress, tarts and pies. All out of clay he made, Then rubbed with chubby fists his eyes. And slumbered in the shade. O little lad, from care so free, Thy life-work is begun ; The coming years are clay for thee To fashion one by one. John Ci,air Minot, 'g6 66 Bowdoin Verse MAGIC OF THE SEA r AIR fields of golden kingcups lie Far sloping to the sea, On cloth of gold the charmed eye Rests in felicity ; Why should it rove To hill or grove, Why discontented be ? What charm the more Has sandy shore. Or blue expanse of sea ? Tall buttercups dance in the breeze. They nod and dance with glee ; Low dandelions join with these, — How glad they both can be ! And yet the shore With murmurous roar Is ever calling me ; Which way I turn Is felt the stern, Wild magic of the sea. Isaac Bassett Choate, '62 Bowdoin Verse 67 REVELATION X HE murmur of the flowing seas, The moonbeams on the silent lake, The soft thrill of the evening breeze. Can never a warm soul forsake. We dream and drift far on to God, And yet we dream and drift not far ; We wander on the common sod While gazing toward the evening star. O, flight of mighty ages gone, O, time and tide that are to be, Give us a vision of the dawn. While speeding o'er life's unknown sea ! We feel the silence and the storms, We see the great waves on the shore. We tremble at the wondrous forms, Yet in them find Thee evermore. DanibI/ Irving Gross, '02 68 Bowdoin Verse YK SCHOLAR IN LOVE Y E light, Lucilly, of your sweet blue eyes Quite dims the feeble rays of midnight oil ; Ye memory of what within them lies Assuageth grief and maketh light my toil. I sit and try to fill my eyes with bookes, Alack, alas ! the trying is most vain. My vision seeth only your good lookes ; My heart at your far absence cries with pain. With wisdom old and new I toil and strive, And on my page with earnestness I stare, — Whatever I can see or dead or live Is tangled in the meshes of your hair. Yet vain are all my sighs and moans for thee, Thy thoughts to me-ward, belike, never turn ; But with one single look or word from thee My foolish heart would never cease to burn ! Ai,i,EN ivEON Churchii