Rollins College - Tomokan Yearbook (Winter Park, FL)

Page 13 text:

MHEMOSTHE It ' s autumn in the country I remember. How warm a wind blew here about the ways! And shadows on the hillside lay to slumber During the long sunsweetened summer days. It ' s cold abroad the country I remember. The swallows veering skimmed the golden grain At midday with a wing aslant and limber; And yellow cattle browsed upon the plain. It ' s empty down the country I remember. I had a sister lovely in my sight: Her hair was dar , her eyes were very sombre; We sang together in the woods at night. It ' s lonely in the country I remember. The babble of our children fills my ears, And on our hearth I stare the perished ember To flames that show all starry thro ' my tears. It ' s dar about the country I remember. There are mountains where I lived. The path Is slushed with cattle-trac s and fallen timber, The stumps are twisted by the tempests ' wrath. But that I new these places are my own, I ' d as how came such wretchedness to cumber The earth, and I to people it alone. It rains across the country I remember. Trumbull Stic ney

Page 15 text:

SAM Whem Sam goes bac in memory, It is to where the sea Breads on the shingle, emerald ' green, In white foam, endlessly; He says — with small brown eye on mine — I used to eep awa e, And lean from my window in the moon, Watching those billows brea . And half a million tiny hands, And eyes, li e spar s of frost, Would dance and come tumbling into the moon, On every breaker tossed. And all across from start to star, I ' ve seen the watery sea, With not a single ship in sight, Just ocean there, and me, And heard my father snore. And once, As sure as I ' m alive, Out of those wallowing, moon ' flec ed waves I saw a mermaid dive; Head and shoulders above the wave, Plain as I now see you, Combing her hair, now bac , now front, Her two eyes peeping through; Calling me, Sam ' — quietli e — ' Sam! . . . But me . . .1 never went, Maying believe I nd of thought Twas someone else she meant . . . Wonderful lovely there she sat, Singing the night away, All in the solitudinous sea Of that lonely bay. P ' raps, and he ' d smooth his hairless mouth, P ' raps, if ' twere now, my son, P ' raps, if I heard a voice say, ' Sam! ' Morning would find me gone. Walter de La Mare 1 1