TWO POEMS 
 
 HENRY RUTGERS CONGER 
 

 PRESENTED BV 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
Two Poems 
 
 CLASS DAY POEM 
 THE PURPLE HILLS 
 
 By 
 HENRY RUTGERS CONGER 
 
 WILLIAMSTOWN, MASSACHUSETTS 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE 
 
 CLASS OF EIGHTEEN NINETY-NINE 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAMS COLLEGE 
 MCMXXI 
 
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HENRY RUTGERS CONGER, Poet of 
 the Class of Eighteen Ninety-Nine of 
 Williams College, died at his home in 
 Fanwood, New Jersey, on Friday the eighteenth 
 of June, Nineteen Hundred and Twenty, while 
 his Class was holding its Reunion in Williams- 
 town, Massachusetts, 
 
 These two poems, written by him while 
 an undergraduate in Williams College, are now 
 printed by his Class as a loving tribute to 
 his memory. 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 I 
 
 In the hush of the early summery 
 
 ^ Neath the smile of the soft June sky. 
 We, who have lived together, 
 
 Qather to say good-hy. 
 And now, with our labor ended, 
 
 And the hours we may linger few. 
 We kneel for our mother^s blessing. 
 
 As is our right to do. 
 
 Page Three 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 Stately and tall is our mother^ 
 
 Tender and strong and wise; 
 With the light of infinite knowledge 
 
 In the depths of her steadfast eyes. 
 And as we kneel before fier, 
 
 Her voice rings clear and sloWy 
 As she speaks the words of the blessing 
 
 That she gives to her sons, ere they go. 
 
 Page Four 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
 II 
 
 "Sons of my four years' nurture, 
 
 Ye who have eaten my bread, 
 Pause ere you take the journey 
 
 Down the wide roads ahead! 
 Listen! that I may tell you 
 
 In simple speech and plain, 
 How from the debt that ye owe me 
 
 Ye may quit yourselves again! 
 
 Page Five 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 The wisdom of generations 
 
 I have spread for your delight; 
 And the truths that men have died for 
 
 Ye may claim as your simple right. 
 Heirs of the hoarding ages, 
 
 How use ye your legacy? 
 Masters of many talents 
 
 Render account to me. 
 
 Page Six 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
 m 
 
 "Are ye puffed with the pride of learning? 
 
 Are ye pleased with the praise of fools? 
 Have your minds grown cramped and narrow 
 
 With the lore that ye learned in schools? 
 Has your knowledge made you slothful, 
 
 And your culture made you vain, 
 That ye think to gain without labor 
 
 What another must toil to gain? 
 
 Page Seven 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 Then are your years here wasted 
 
 As pearls that are cast to swine! 
 Then are ye servants of servants, 
 
 And no true sons of mine! 
 For they who began behind you 
 
 Shall pass you in the race; 
 And untaught men shall shame you 
 
 In the open market-place! 
 
 Page Eight 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
 IV 
 "From the quiet heart of the mountains 
 
 Ye must take journey, down 
 To the world, that is ever careless 
 
 Of the skirts of a scholar's gown. 
 And the sheltered life of college 
 
 Ye must leave behind you then, 
 And bear your parts in the battle 
 
 Where men fight hard with men. 
 
 Page Nine 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 There there is naught to help you 
 
 But your wit and strength of limb, 
 There every man is your master 
 
 Until you have mastered him. 
 For a great law governs the fighting 
 
 And all are ruled thereby — 
 *He that is strong shall conquer! 
 
 He that is weak must die!* 
 
 Page Ten 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
 V 
 
 ^Therefore, that ye may merit 
 
 Men's praise when your heads are gray, 
 Cling to the good ye have gathered 
 
 From my teaching that ends to-day. 
 Ye have learned many true sayings 
 
 And many wise maxims heard. 
 For some ye know the reason, 
 
 And for some ye must take my word. 
 
 Page Eleven 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 But, though ye forget the others, 
 
 These two hold firm and clear: 
 The first is — ^He that would win must worky^ 
 
 The second — ^Thou shalt not fear I* 
 For the vices of a strong man 
 
 Are pardoned in the end; 
 But he that is born a coward 
 
 Hath neither foe nor friend ! 
 
 Page Twelve 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
 VI 
 
 "Be tender, and quick to pity 
 
 At the sight of another's wrong, 
 Humble before a weaker, 
 
 Cringing not to the strong. 
 Paying each service twofold, 
 
 Nor counting the debt clear then; 
 Keeping your faith with women. 
 
 Speaking the truth to men. 
 
 Page Thirteen 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 VII 
 
 "High in the purple mountains, 
 
 Where the world's strife cannot come, 
 Ringed by the iron cordon 
 
 Of the hills that guard my home, 
 I gather my sons about me 
 
 And teach them at my knee. 
 And when they have learned their lesson, 
 
 My sons go forth from me. 
 
 Page Fourteen 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
 Over the world they wander, 
 
 In the sunshine and wind and storm, 
 But I sit here in the quiet room 
 
 And keep the hearthstone warm; 
 Watching and listening and waiting 
 
 For their footsteps at the door, 
 Till one by one as the years go by 
 
 My sons come home once more. 
 
 Page Fifteen 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 Then I fling wide the portal 
 
 And welcome them to the hall, 
 With praise for the strong, and pity 
 
 For the weak, and love for all. 
 And the welcome that I give them 
 
 Is reward for those that win; 
 And they who are spent with fighting 
 
 Find a new strength therein. 
 
 Page Sixteen 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
 And when they have told their stories, 
 
 And rested a little space, 
 They rise, and get them forth again 
 
 Each man to his own place; 
 To take the task that waits him, 
 
 And labor to the end. 
 That he may earn a living 
 
 For wife and child and friend. 
 
 Page Seventeen 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 Careless of sneers and frowning 
 From curs that cringe and shirk, 
 
 Asking no greater pleasure 
 
 Than the sight of his finished work. 
 
 Poge Eighteen 
 
CLASS DAY POEM 
 
 VIII 
 
 "Ye who to-day must follow 
 
 Whither your fates shall lead, 
 These are your elder brothers! 
 
 Prove yourselves of the breed! 
 See that ye count as shameful 
 
 No work your hands can do; 
 And when ye are spent, come back to me 
 
 That I may comfort you* 
 
 Page "Nineteen 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 Now, through the open portal, 
 
 Rise and go forth to-day! 
 And a mother's blessing go with you, 
 
 To help you on your way.'* 
 
 Williamstown, June 20, 1899. 
 
 Page Twenty 
 
THE PURPLE HILLS 
 
THE PURPLE HILLS 
 
 Air— "Annie Lisle" 
 
 Dying echoes fill the valley, 
 
 Heralding the night, 
 As we gather on the campus 
 
 In the waning light. 
 In the west the sunset's crimson 
 
 All the heaven fills. 
 And its glory rims the edges 
 
 Of our purple hills. 
 
 Page Twenty-three 
 
TWO POEMS 
 
 Fast the lengthening shadows gather, 
 
 Sunset dims to grey, 
 And the calling winds of evening 
 
 Through the branches play. 
 With the far stars pale above them 
 
 While day's tumult stills. 
 Watching us who know and love them, 
 
 Stand the purple hills. 
 
 Page Twenty-four 
 
THE PURPLE HILLS 
 
 Safe within our little valley 
 
 From the outer strife, 
 Are enshrined the happy memories 
 
 Of our college life. 
 And when darker days have found us, 
 
 *Mid this old world's ills; 
 Still our hearts will turn with gladness 
 
 To our purple hills. 
 
 Williamstown, 1898. 
 
 Page Twenty-five