Agnes Scott College - Silhouette Yearbook (Decatur, GA)

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Frank Henry Gaines July 25, 1852 April 14, 1923

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iL 1 T E Sunset and evening star. And one clear call for me, And may there be no moaning of the bar. When I put out to sea. But such a tide as moving seems asleep. Too full jor sound and foam; When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Dr. Gaines has gone Home. One day he stepped out of his office — not just across the hall to be away for a moment on some errand of service, but into the Radiant Life to be gone for always in the perfect service of the King. Just the fact that he has gone away is so strange, so new, so difficult, to comprehend that we, who in our love for him would have him near, cannot think yet of Agnes Scott without him; we cannot think of the campus, the chapel, his office — HIS college — without his own familiar, beloved figure. But through all the strangeness and sor- row of these past days, there has been shining into our hearts the light of one quiet thought; he has but gone Home. Quietly from his family, from his friends, from his college and his girls, Dr. Gaines has passed on. Because we know that he has but laid down his life and his work to take it up again, we cannot mourn without comfort when that which drew from out the boundless deep, turns again home. Because the source of his life and power was God always, there can be no sting in death, or victory in the grave. Though in sorrowing- for our friend, we have passed through the valley of the shadow, yet even in sorrow we have irresistibly felt that the death of him whose strength was God was triumphant — the triumphant entering into Life. We thrilled to that conviction as, in those last, simple, loving sentences, we sang his favorite hymns; as we listened to the reading of those passages of the Bible which he himself had many times read for the comfort of the distressed; as we stood by his open grave and witnessed the last tribute of his Senior class. And even as we go about the doing of the little and the big things that make up our lives, we shall thrill again to that same conviction of the greatness of triumphant living and dying. We grieve that he has gone from us in person. We miss him so. But our sadness is touched with the light of a great thankfulness — thankfulness for the life which he lived in simplicity, in strength and in sincerity; for the college which he dreamed of, and toiled for, and loved into being; for his spirit that is inseparable from the spirit of Agnes Scott. May it be given to us, the students of the college that is the dream and the crown of his life, that with something of his goodness, his faith, his vision of high things, we may carry on. — ' 21.