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Page 155 text:
MAY. , May 1- — Beautiful day. May baskets in vogue. May 2 — Wonderful day for Taylor. May 3 — Bishop Oldham deliverts several addresses. May 4 — Some students go to the woods to gather flowers. May 5 — Some couples think the Dean has Spring (?) fever. May 6 — Very good prayer meeting. May 7 — Faculty program in the Philo Society. May 8— Parliamentary drill in Thalo business meeting. May 9— Sunday. May 10 — Dr. Ridout calls for special prayer meeting for the benefit of the debt-raising fund. May 11- — Recital in Vocal and Expression Departments. May 12 — Dr. Wray lectures on the " Second Coming of Christ " in New Testament Greek. May 13 — Dr. Ridout in Christian Evidences, " Mr. Kirk, how did this chapter impress you? " May 14 — Thalos give a Junior program. May 15 — Philos have very interesting debate, and also Philo-Thalo base- ball game. Philos dctorious. May 16 — Students take walks. May 17 — Syrup for supper in the Dining Hall. May 18 — Druschel seen on Spicher porch. They say this is nothing un- usual. May 19 — Prof. Growen announces chorus practice. May 20 — Dr. Wray leads chapel. ■ • May 21 — Philo Academy Senior program. ■ May 22 — Soangetahas have a very interesting. May 23— Whitsunday. May 24 — Very interesting Volunteer meeting. May 25 — A number of called meetings after chapel. May 26 — Pie for dinner in the Dining Hall. May 27 — Chapel closes on time. May 28 — Inter-club debate. May 29 — Very interesting ball game. May 30 — Decoration Day. Mav 31 — Good day for tennis. 151
Page 154 text:
autumn J.W. K. Lo, summer ' s golden days have passed away; And Autumn with its red, and gold and gray, Has come again, and over hill and dale, And through bare branches we can hear the wail Of moaning spirit-winds, that seem to call In sonorous tones, to creatures great and small; " Put on your winter robes ; the time draws nigh When Neptune ' s cold cloud chariots sweep the sky; And from the frozen climes Old Boreas wild. Comes roaring, and o ' er hill and plain, are piled Great heaps of hoary whiteness, and the air Is filled with flying snowflakes everwhere. E ' en now the breeze is sharper, in its breath I feel a tinge of frost, and ice, and death, That will ere long the lakes and rivers seal With crystal fastenings, and the brooks congeal In icy fetters. But let us meanwhile Enjoy in all its fullness, the sweet smile Of the rare, glorious Indian summer days, When in far vistas hangs that foggy haze That lends the tardy sun a fiery ray, As o ' er the eastern hills he makes his way. Wild feathered tribes have gathered, and are gone To some fair climate in the distant zone, Where summer is immortal, where the view Below is fadeless green; above eternal blue. Across my path as o ' er the moor I paced, The caterpillar in his tedious haste Went scurrying to seek his winter home; There to repose and dream, till spring shall come, Of gaudy wings, that some day he shall wear. On which he ' ll flit from fern to flow ' ret fair. Through summer ' s happy hours. Upon the hill, The faithful dandelion lingers still, Studding the meadows with his drops of gold, Beside the brook and scattered thro the wood, The purple aster and the goldenrod, The last of summer ' s glory, faded are; Their winged seeds are wafted near and far. Thus summer ' s beauteous garb is laid away, And nature clad in melancholy gray, As in a shroud of death, till spring ' s gay dress Shall prove to us anew life ' s endlessness. Oh, lovely summer days, your memory still. Is lingering o ' er barren heath and hill; And in my heart like some sad sweet refrain, I keep repeating o ' er and o ' er again; This is a symbol of the larger life. That ' s promised to the victor in the strife; Spring, Summer, Autumn, all must come to me; Then death ' s cold winter, then eternity; When bursting earthly bonds, on joyful wing, I ' ll dwell forever in immortal spring. J. W. K. 150
Page 156 text:
Mtnter J. W. K. The meadows lie enwrapped in glistening sheen; Drear silence reigns, no life, no living green. Except the fir and cedar, and their kind. Spared kindly by Dame Nature to remind Us, that beneath the snow, and ice, and cold, All safely tucked away beneath the mould, There is a germ of life, which, som e glad day. Shall once more deck itself in bud and spray. To blossom and to cheer the souls of men, And resurrect dead hearts and hopes again The sun, low hanging o ' er the southern way, Brings little comfort in his slanting ray, While wood, and wold, and stream, deep buried lie, And icy wind his utmost power defy. The billowy snow has fallen; every post And pillar, shrouded like a sheeted ghost. Stands mute and motionless beneath its load. Like spectral guide-posts pointing out the road To fairy courts and sparkling palaces. Where sprites and elf-kings sip from silver chalices. The wild wind howling o ' er the snowy waste, Like some great ogre in tumultuous haste, Sweeps up the crystal dust in mountains high. As though he would build castles to the sky. Then suddenly like some mad merry clown, With laughter hoarse he blows his castles down. The denizen of the wood, the timid hare Driven by hunger, seeks his scanty fare, In court, or lawn, or nearby garden plot. Where bits of summer ' s herbage were forgot; Or if perchance he fail in finding these, A pardonable nibble at the orchard trees Must needs be granted, lest his hunger gnaw; For cruel, pinching hunger knows no law. All nature thus seems in an ugly mood, Even denies her children daily food; And while hoar Winter shakes his whitened locks. Jests at our shivering and our sighing mocks, We hesitating stand, uncertain now. Where lie our hopes; whether beneath the snow, Or whether we must look back to the time, When Autumn ' s gorgeous coloring sublime, Entranced us with its tints of gold and red; Or shall we leave the past and look ahead. With trusting waiting hearts and hopeful eyes. When Spring shall smile at us from milder skies ? Past all old winter ' s storms and blasts un- kind. Like some ill dream, forgotten, out of mind ? Or better still; shall we not cease to cast Our hopes all in the future or the past; And live the present moment while we may, With joyous bounding hearts. The com- ing day Some unforeseen calamity may bring. And we are oft deceived by fickle spring. Likewise for bygone days we long in vain Past days are past, and ne ' er will come again. So while the flowers are gone and summer fled. And dismal clouds the heavens overspread; While Nature in unkindest revel seems. And Spring, as yet, is only in our dreams; Shall we not brave the storm, the blasts defy, And fling defiance at the threatening sky? Laugh at old Winter and his noisy boast. Set all his threats at naught, his snows and frost Greet with a happy smile, and while we sing, The time will speed away, and lo, the Spring With budding life in every field and fen, Close on the heels of Winter will come in. 152
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