College of William and Mary - Colonial Echo Yearbook (Williamsburg, VA)

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many familiar faces were absent. This, impressing upon our minds that the chances of a college student ' s success is infinitely small, was an incen- tive that aroused all our latent powers, and for two -ears we labored incessantly. During this period our individuality was developed, our characters were formed, and our destinies were irrevocably fixed. Once more, and for the last time, we came together, but only ten. We came, not as formerly, members of an amalgamated body; but as individual members of a body in which the personality of each member, rather than the characteristics of the class, is prominent. We cannot properly be called a cla.ss for we are representative types of the great classes of men. Among our members are found the optimist and the pessimist, the philosopher and the fool, the statesman and the politician, the educator and the farmer. But for convenience we are organized into a class and called Seniors. As Seniors, we are striving for the precious and much-coveted degree ; but like the will-o ' -the-wisp it evades our grasp, and, by its flickering light, leads us on in pursuit of its alluring enchantments. We are constantly tantalized by the thought that unkind fate may deny us the honor of the success for which we have striven so long. But to fail is not to lose ; and the thought that we are well equipped to enter upon the duties of life is a balm that heals our wounded spirits. We are strong in the consciousness of the power that we have acquired, and of our preparation to go forth in our chosen spheres, whether in the whirlpools of social convulsion or in the eddies of a quiet life. Historian. 22

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Senior Class 1F3istor ' 03. ONE evening, four years ago, a heterogeneous mass of forlorn-looking boys arrived in Williamsburg. These youthful scions, the nation ' s future hope, came from everj ' walk of life ; some bore evidence of having led a .•-trenuous life, but many of them were creatures of indulgence. All had left an old existence and were standing on the threshold of a new life. After the first sensations of novelty had worn off, this throng of boys, wandering aimlessly through the ancient grounds and buildings and rendered desperate by the pangs of homesickness, became reckless, violent and danger, ous ; but the Seven Wise Men, having earnestly deliberated in solemn coun- cil on the new conditions that had ari.sen, finally succeeded in gaining con- trol of these turbulent spirits and established a bond, uniting them in a stable union. The high and the low, the rich and the poor, the wise and the fool- ish, all met on a common plane ; all recognized one law and all sought one goal. Such was the beginning of the Class of ' 03. By virtue of enrolling as students, we assumed the title of Dues with all of its opprobrium ; then our college career began in earnest and we no longer lived in a chimerical world. Stern realities confronted us, and we were compelled to exhibit unparalleled examples of fortitude. During our first session, we discovered nianj ' wonderful things that filled us with astonishment. The arrogant Senior was, to our untutored minds, the exemplar of ideal manhoood ; but intimacy destroyed our admiration, and we removed him from his lofty height to our own level. But nothing t,o in.spired us with awe as the learned doctors, composing the Faculty. These oracular con.servators of wisdom, doling out tons their enigmas of knowl- edge, slightly more intelligible than the mutterings of the Pythia and more ambiguous than the prophetic utterances of the Delphian god, imbued our simple minds with mystic reverence. At the beginning of our second year, we returned, but not as Dues : — they never return — for we had become Sophomores. But alas ! how 21

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Senior poem. Across the isle of song, a gentle breeze, Bearing melodious strains wliere ' er it went Played, as on liarps, upon tliL- tuneful trees. With phantom hands, and ever to the music blent Tlie sounds of many waters from whose roar Came the clear voices of the bards of yore. Though devious ways, 1 followed the strange sound Through rocky passes, over cliff and crag, Down meadows where the violets abound ; By marshes bordered with the reed and flag. Where dew-empearled lilies kiss the stream. And wake the water from its placid dream. 1 followed ever where the music led, And wondered at its mystic, magic power ; As sweet the voices at the bards long dead Soothed into sleep all sorrow of the hour. And made the sadne.ss of my soul to cease Till Joy, light-winged, led me on in peace. Followed through fields where gentle pansies grow, And sweetest lilies of the valley bloom : Where ' mid the glossy leaves magnolias blow. And rare carnations waft their rich perfume : Great fields with golden buttercups alight, And daisies like a rolling sea of white. Till I had wandered to an olden cave Mantled by ancient ivy clambering o ' er, From whence the music came, now gay, now grave. Low as a rill, or loud as tempest roar: Till like a symphony it swelled so grand It seemed an ocean dashing on the strand.