Haverford College - Record Yearbook (Haverford, PA)

Page 28 text:

GEORGE BAGBY One ot the limils of reality Presenls itself in Oley when the hay. Baked through long days, is piled in mows. It is A land too ripe for enigmas, too serene . . . Things stop in that direction and since Ihey stop The direction slops and we accept what is As good. The utmost must be good and is And is our fortune and honey hived in the trees And mingling of colors at a festival. . . . The personae of summer play the char- acters Of an inhuman author, who meditates With the gold bugs, in blue meadows, late at night. He does not hear his chciracters talk. He sees Them mottled, in the moodiest costumes. Of blue and yellow, sky and sun, belted And knotted, sashed and seamed, half pales of red. Half pales of green, appropriate habit for The huge decorum, the manner of the time. Part of the mottled mood of summer ' s whole. In which the characters speak because they want To speak, the fat, the roseate characters. Free, for a moment, from malice and sud- den cry. Complete in a completed scene, speeiking Their parts as in a youthful happiness. — from Wallace Stevens: Credences of Summer

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BOB ARONOFF A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness — Oh, Wildernes were Paradise enow! The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam 23

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R. DAVIS BALDERSTON 25