Presbyterian College - Pac Sac Yearbook (Clinton, SC)

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alvah McLaughlin, pl.b., m.a. Professor of Biology, Geology and Astronoimj Ph. B. and M. A., Lafayette College; Colum- bia University; Princeton University; Professor of Biology, Geology and Astronomy, Prestyte- rian College of South Carolina. LESLIE ST. CLAIR HAYES, A. B., M. D. Professor of Phusiologu, and Hugiene A. D., Presbuterian College of South Caro- lina; M. D., Columbia Universitu; Professor of Phusiologu and Hugiene, Presbuterian College of South Carolina. WALTER A. JOHNSON Pnusical Director Normal School of Phvjsical Education, Bat- tle Creek, Michigan; Physical Director, Pres- buterian College of South Carolina.

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EVENTIDE AND MEMORY The golden sun is sinking in the purple tinted west; Her lading raus are beckoning the wearu world to rest. The night bird sings a love song to his soul mate in the tree; The milk maid calls the browsing cattle home across the lea. The cricket chirping drowsilu is resting ill at ease, The leaves are rustling softlvj in the gentle wandering breeze. The dau is done and night draws nigh; and in the twilight glow, Beneath the spell oi Nature ' s charm, I dream ol long ago. When daus were ijoung and evenings gold and heart was light and free, 1 lived among and loved the hills in daus that used to be. I loved to see the setting sun and evening drawing nigh, To hear the birds and crickets sing and zephvjrs genthj sigh. But daus ol vjore have passed and gone, and now 1 feel elcne, And in the evening ' s twilight glow I long lor Iriends and home. Again I stand at Mother ' s knee, her hand upon imj brow, Again I hear her speak to me in gentle tones and low. Although she went long rjears ago beuond the reach ol pain, Still eventide and memorij recall those scenes again. Ihough I am alwaus drifting back in memoru ' s field to glean, It holds no shadow ol remorse lor what I might have been. Thus marj it be, when eventide ol life ' s short dau draws near, I hat meiuoru in looking back provoke no bitter tear; But lingciing in the lading raus, still long for fiiends and home; Long not for friends I leave behind, but those around the throne.