University of Georgia - Pandora Yearbook (Athens, GA)

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Acadkmic 15I’ll PINT. I'XIVKWUTY ClIAHKI.

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Goodbye, Old Buildings IIK mellow, witrm haze of a Septemlwr sun wrapped in tarnished gold the ivy-covered aeademic building, the high eolunin chapel, the ancient dormitories, and the structures »f later days, sym-lailizing in quiet tranquility a benediction of peace and love. Hut we walked through the great seal of the entrance arch into tlie arms of n Spartan mother. A mad Pied Piper stalked the fields of Picardy and Flanders, luring a host of millions into the slaughter of war. We came to find our Mina Mater, outwardly peaceful and smiling, but inwardly militant and broken with grief. Her older sons had answered the call, and already many of them lay on their broken blood-stained shields. Duty, with silver bugles, sounded from across the seas and we, the youngest of her sons, came to receive the challenge and follow in the paths of others. Pence came suddenly, while she instructed us in the arts of war. She put away our arms and furled the Hags we were to have raised in battle while she t H»k us upon her knee and hade us learn of peace. Four years ago we eagerly ol eycd her, and now........... At the dusking dawn, while the wind blows fitfully through the trees, making the new leaves stir and sing, a minstrelsy of music heard only in the hidden depths of the heart, a sound like the soft drawing of a master's bow across the taut silver strings of an ancient violin, we walk the old accustomed paths, knowing that today we leave them, perhaps, forcvci We arrive where tile massive columns of the old chapel tower in the bine light like the portals of a pearl gate leading into a legendary past. Our hand goes up. our hat conies off, and we stand lxiwed while the new light flares up in the east and the old light burns in our heart like incense before a cherished altar. Goodbye, old buildings! Today the jiomp and ceremony within your walls will lie as the blare of silver bugles in our ears again .... the herald of tla’ King of I.ife calling ns into' the field of battle. We shall see the paths of life lending like silver threads of light across the hills until they are lost to sight lieyond the horizon’s rim. Beyond that rim we cannot know what lies. Jov and sorrow, success and defeat-—'these are the common heritage of all that travel the trails. We shall not falter, we shall not linger long, we shall not shed one tenr-for we are brave— brave enough, at least, to cliokc back the sob we feel rising into our thront on saying Farewell, and inarch resolutely through the great seal of the entrance arch into the paths that challenge us and call to ns.' Goodbye, old buildings- we are gone} Hut shall we lose you forever? Someone speaks, “We do not hear it in onr ears, but we sense it in our hearts”. It is the voice of the Alma Mater: “No. you cannot lose them, for as you entered into them, so did they enter into you. and they will remain a part of you forever”. We brace up onr shoulders .... we are smiling as we go. Goodbye, old buildings! We feel no sorrow. Oi.ivkr S. Morton .

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I'xivkhsity Library