Presbyterian College - Pac Sac Yearbook (Clinton, SC)

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My son, my executioner, I take you in my arms. Quiet and small and just astir. And whom my body warms. Sweet death, small son, our instrument Of immortality. Your cries and hungers document Our bodily decay. We twenty-five and twenty-two. Who seemed to live forever, Observe enduring life in you And start to die together. Donald Hall Donald Hall at home, Eagle Park Farm, near Wilmot, New Hampshire. Yet it is easy to calculate the degree of moral and intellectual improvement which the world would have exhibited, had they [Locke, Hume, Gibbons, Vol- taire, Rousseau] never lived. A little more nonsense would have been talked for a century or two; and perhaps a few more men, women, and children burnt as heretics . . . But it exceeds all imagi- nation to conceive what would have been the moral condition of the world if neither Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Calderon, Lord Bacon, nor Milton, had ever existed; if Raphael and Michael Angelo had never been born; if the Hebrew poetry had never been translated; if a revival of Greek literature had never taken place; if no monuments of ancient sculpture had been handed down to us; and if the poetry of the religion of the ancient world had been extinguished with its belief. The human mind could never, except by the intervention of these ex- citements, have been awakened to the invention of the grosser sciences. Percy Bysshe Shelley A Defence of Poetry lO Opening

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Water, Water everywhere 12 Opening