Stanford University - Quad Yearbook (Palo Alto, CA)

Page 12 text:

— I said, let me leave the voices of little men, and consider a great thing. Who is this that sits serene in the valleys, with her forehead among the tawny hills? She is golden in the morning, and silver under the moon. She is not a king ' s daughter; there is no pride in her. Lo, it IS she whose name we have taken; she who was conceived of a great sorrow-, in the autumn of a woman ' s years; she by whom we are children of those whose child was dead, by whom we are the heirs of a boy who was never a father. She is not mighty, neither magnificent: she does not call to us from tall steeples; she wears no crown of towers. She sits among the little hills, with the sunshine on her knees; her garment is brow-n and warm, and her sleeves are edged with green. Red sun- sets are the mantle that clothes her shoulders. We come to her feeble and soft, and lean against her knees. Her hands are clasped about our hands; she feeds our hunger. Her subtle breath is upon us, and we are straightway changed. Who shall say how far her words have gone, and who shall say how high her sons have mounted . ' ' Men of all nations know them, and travelers on wide waters. Their feet have walked in waste places and in king ' s palaces. What do we bring to her who gave us part of our life. ' ' What do we render for her service? We have given her nothing, after the fashion of sons and daughters. Only when we creep back to her desolate and forlorn, we catch at her garment: we hide our faces in her sleeves, saying Love us! Restore us! Only that we give to her, after the manner of children —a corner of the heart and the cry of the broken. Behold, I will utter my prayer, that all men may he;ir me: Giver of gifts, make us deserving of her charity. Creator and preserver, make us worthy to be called In r cliiKiren. MARGERY B.AU-EV Jl , , ft ftltMnd.r J

Page 14 text:

ALMON EDWARD ROTH, A. B.,, J,