Princeton University - Nassau Herald Yearbook (Princeton, NJ)

Page 16 text:

THE NASSAU HERALD. White are the dwellings, built apart a space, Encircled round with lawns of verdant grace. A school, the central theme of village thought, With gray tradition, youthful pranks inwrought, Looms up with massive walls and silent towers. No sound is heard under the foliage bowers, The school-boys all now far away do roam, To seek the pleasures of a loving home. If from the public way of Silver Brook You turn your step, you soon espy a nook Nestling beneath the ledge, that dark. and tall Rises away above like ancient castle wallg There you a homestead plain and neat may see, 'Tis midway cast, twixt ease and poverty. He on the porch, to whom my thought relates, The aged doctor, sits and meditates. An old man, stout of heart but feeble now, For eighty snows had deeply marked his brow, And three-score years of stern physician-life Had passed since he, with young and girlish wife, First came to live at Silver Brook, And gleeful called their homestead Shady Nook? I watch the shadows Hit across his face, His hoary locks-how like a crown of grace! Anon his eye lit up with pride and joy, As scenes arose that showed himself a boy. With shades of sadness now the joy would cease, But still his face was calm and full of peace. A youthful chorus wafts from yonder peak, The distance makes it soft and low and sweetg Old Alfred forward bends his ready ear As thus the camper's song comes free and clear. List to the dwellers on nature's dark mountains, On Greylock's kind bosom we lay ourselves down - Drink we the joy of his deep-rushing fountains, Sleeping in peace on the spruce-needles brown. Cool are the breezes that fan thy tall hemlocks, Soft trills the thrush on the banks of the rill, Light float the clouds o'er the billowy hill-tops, Richly our vessel of pleasure to ill. Praise we the grace of our loved Alma Mater, Sweet are the memories clustering thereg 7

Page 15 text:

THE JVASSAU HERALD. Glass lltrreiu. FRANK S. WOODRUFF, N. J. 'Tis evening-time on fair New England's hills, Deep shadows bridge the limpid, mossy rills NVith graceful span, as falls the lingering light, Latest and most beauteous, that borders on the night Rich is the landscape now that greets the eye, Of hills and valleys green and amber sky. So gently blows the fragrant vesper breeze As scarce to draw a murmur from the trees, That leafy and in summer garments dressed, Keep silent watch, sheer to the hillock's crest. Nor elen a whisper of the wintry spell That yearly binds with icy hand each dell - And height 5 when whirling snow-flakes ill the sky, And tempests toss the withered leaves on high. The place lies inland 5 there do people dwell Who never see the heaving ocean swell, Nor hear his music, yet are well content, And often, while on rural task intent, See in the Hitting vap'rous shapes of clouds What they imagine hulls and snowy shrouds. Inviting, wide, and peaceful lies the street . Where winding paths from od' the hillside meet, - And following down, you cross the little bridge That spans a gushing streamlet from the ridge, And gives the town the name of Silver Brook. Below it wanders like a shepherd's crook, And dashes o'er the rocks with liquid tune To fill its moss-rimmed basins, water-hewn. The voices sweet of children, sorrow-free, Now soothe the heart with innocence and glee And at this evening hour scarce else is heard, Save now and then the note of some wood-bird. J

Page 17 text:

, THE NASSAU HERALD. Here while we stay by the clear dashing water, All shall her towers and beauty declare. As faint the silver echoes died away, Over his cheeks the joyous halos play, As now the song unbidden mid the trees Brings back his youthful sports and merry glees. He listens still 'to catch another strain, But that was all--he heard it not again. Tho', as for contrast, fain to turn the thought From careless joy to lessons sorrow-taught, A lonely hermit thrush, with rich and liquid voice, Kept warbling-such a tune as oft against the choice Brings a wave of sadness and unbidden tears. Old Alfred knew the touch of sorrow in past years, That touch so heavy, yet with surety given, To mould a truer manhood, more like that of heaven A tear-drop glistened in his kindly eye, And turned his glance toward the western sky. There, cast against its softly glowing light, The old physician saw a wondrous sight: High up the mountains part in twain, And in the rift a smooth and placid main Of far-stretching clouds, nay dotted here and there With fleecy sail, and well does it compare ' With bright and glancing waters of the sea, That far away are bound byistern decree. Another mood sweeps o'er that manly face Which full reflects the inward musing's trace, 'Tis that of longing and of deep desire- Nor do I now the secret cause inquire, For oft the villagers have told to me How well he loved his boy-now on the sea, How often, when he lightly falls asleep, The father talks of Herbert on the deep, Yet in his eye a sort of jubilee, As quietly he murmurs, No more sea. Fainter the blushing glows of evening wane, And over four score varied years again Had Alfred journeyed in his memory free. His daughter Mary, tall and matronly, With gentle hand supplies his feeble need, And both within the hall-way now recede. A Dim could I see-the flickering shades increase-