University of the South - Cap and Gown Yearbook (Sewanee, TN)

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VISION, HID FROM COMMON SIGHT But young people err so often and so grievously in this: that they (in whose nature it lies to have no patience) fling themselves at each other, when love takes possession of them, scatter themselves, just as they are, in all their untidiness, disorder, confusion . . . — Rainer Maria Rilke A laie snow and more bitter cold. It turned away from the blithe country And down the other air and the blue altered sky Streamed again a wonder of summer With apples Pears and red currants And I saw in the turning so clearly a child ' s Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother Through the parables Of sun light And the legends of the green chapels. Poem in October — Dylan Thomas (41-50)

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FAIR PROPHET Hours of studying. the calves sang to my horn . Moving into McCrady Hall. Buzzing the Mountain with some friends on a Saturday night. You should be grateful for the fall; the golden red-brown leaves make quilted hillsides and the valley below where you look down and back in the autumn of your life. The season of the late afternoon and the tree-matching sky of sunset and sober recollection has made you now.

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Miss McCrory : grace and ease at the cello. Babcock ' s boys lead the cheers. You should be grateful for the winter, the cold nights of snow and ice and stone ponds, days clothed in night by the fog and the rain washing the barren trees. Life takes refuge in a frozen soil. Winter is a foreboding of death, a breath of hope. The dancing perishes On the white, no longer growing green, and, minstrel dead, The singing breaks in the snow shoed villages of wishes That once cut the figures of birds on the deep bread. And over the glazed lakes skated the shapes of fishes Flying. The rite is shorn Of nightingale and centaur dead horse. The springs wither Back. Lines of age sleep on the stones till trumpeting down. Exultation lies down. Time buries the spring weather That belled and bounded with the fossil and the dew reborn. A Winter ' s Tale — Dylan Thomas (110-120) A SHINING CITY SET UPON A HILL