The New York herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1840-1920, 1875-07-08
THE CLASS OF 1926.
Touching Reunion at the Feet OF
Alma Mater.
A AUTIF POEM

Rev. David Shlpley ID. d., or ProVloence, ana
Professor Packard. who was tutor in 1926. Most
OF the class were accompanied by their wives aud
daughters. Some OF the class had not met for
fifty years, and were unable to recognize each
other without an introduction. The reunion was
o most touching and enjoyable occasion.
THE EXERCISES.
There was very large attendance at the public
exercises OF the Alumni OF Bowdoin College this
afternoon. Eleven members OF the class OF 1925
were seated on the platform. Professor Egoert o.
Smyth introduced the class TO the audience, Kew.
j. S. c. Abbott offered prayer, Mr.. Longellow iol-
lowed and was received with great applause. He
occupied about thirly minutes in the delivery OF
the poem given below. When he concluded Hon. j.
W. Bradbury moved q vote OF thanks from the
Alumni TO the friends OF Bowdoin, wnlch was
unanimously carried. An grafton by the Rev. DR..
oheever followea and was warmly received. His
subject was Science and Religio0." vote OF
thanks was rendered to him by the Alumni.
The following is Mr.. Henry W. Longlellow's
poem, written Ior the 6ltieth anniversary OF the
class OF 1926 1t is to be published in Harper's
Magazine for August
MoRITURI sALuTAMUs.
Temporal labuntur, tacitisque seneScimus annis.
Et iugiunt freno remorante dies
OVID, Fasoruns Lib. VI
go Cesar, we who are about to die
Salute you ~ was the gadtators' cry
In theaarena standing lace to face
With death and with the Rom IN populace.
o ye familiar scenes-ye groves OF pine,
That once were mine and are no longer mine
Thou river widening through the meadows green
To the vast sea so near and yet unseen
Ye halls, in whose secusion and repose
Phantoms OF fame, like exhalauons, rose
And vanished-we who are about TO die
Salute you; earth and air and sea and sky.
AND the Imperial sun that scatters down
HIS soverisn splendors upon grove and town.
Ye do not answer US We do not hear
We are forgotten; ana In your austere
And calm Indifference ye little care
whether we come or go, or whence or where.
What passing generations oil these halls,
What passing voices ecno from these walls,
Ye heed nor; we are only as the blast.
A moment heard, and then forever past.
Not so the teachers who in earlier Gays
Leo our bewildered feet through learning's maze /;
They answer us-alas what have saidP
Wnst greetings come there from the voiceless
deadS
What salutation, welcome, or replyp
what pressure from the hands that lifeless lie9
Taey are no longer here; they all are gone
Into the land Of shadows-all save one.
Honor aud reverence, and the good repute
That follows faithlnl service as its lruit
Be unto him. whom living we salute.
The great Italian poet, when he made
HIS dreadful journey 10 the realms OF shade,
Met there the old instructor OF his youth,
And cried, in tones OF pity and OF ruth:
80, never from the memory OF my heart
Your dear. paternal Image shall depart,
Who while en- earth, ere yet by death surprised,
Taught me how mortas are lmmortallzed;
How grateful am or that patient care
All my lie long my language shall declare"
To-day we make the poets words our own,
And utter them In plaintive undertone;
Nor to the living only be they said,
But to the other living called the dead,
Whose dear, paternal images appear
Not wrapped in gloom. but robed In sunshine
here
whose simple lives, complete and without nav,
We're part and parcel OF great Natures law;
Who said not to their LORD, as II AFRAID,
"Here is tiny talent in a napkin laiu,"
But labored In their sphere, as those who live
In the delight that work alone can give.
Peace be TO them; eternal peace ana rest,
And the fu1ment OF the great oehest:
aye have been faithful over a few things
over ten cities shall ye reign as kings"
And ye who I'LL the places we once filed,
And follow In the burrows that we TILED,
Young men, whose generous hearts are beating
high,
We who are old, and are about to die,
salute you hail you take your hands In ours,
And crown you with our welcome as with flowers |
HOW beautiful is youth how bright 1t CLEANS
With It's Illusions aspirations, dreamsl
Book Of Beginnings, story without End,
Each maid a heroine ana each man friend
Aladdin's Lamp, and Fortunatus' Purse,
That holds the treasures OF the universel
All possibilities are In its hands,
No danger daunts It, and no foe withstands;
In It's sublime audacity OF faith,
"Be thou removedw II to the mountain saith,
And with ambitious feet, secure and proud,
Ascends the ladder leaning on the cloudl
AS ancient Priam at the Scean gate
Sat on the walls OF Troy IN regal state
With the old men, too old and weak TO light
Chirplng like grasshoppers In their delight
To see the embattled hosts with spear and shield,
OF Trojans and Achains In the neld;
SO from the snowy SUBMITS OF our years
We see you in the plain, as each appears,
And question OF you asking, "Wbo Is no
That towers above the othersi Which may be
AtreIdes. Menelaus, odysseus,
Ajax the great, or bold Idomeneusr'
Let him not boast who puts his armor on
As he who puts 1t on the battle done.
study yourselves; ana most OF all note well
Wherein kind Nature meant you to excel.
Not every blossom ripens into fruit;
Minerva, the inventress OF the 1ute,
Flung it aside, when she her face surveyed
Distorted In a fountain as she played;
The unluckY Marsyas found IT, and his fate
Was one TO make the bravsst hesitate.
Write on your doors the saying wise and old,
"Be bold be boldl and everywhere be bold;
Be not too boldw Yet better the excess
Than the defect; better the more than less;
Better like Hector In the field to die,
Than like perfumed Paris turn and ny.
And now, my classmates; ye remaining few
That number not the nalf OF those we knew;
Ye against whose familiar names not ret
The fatal asterisk OF death Is set
fe salute Tho horologe OF Time
Strikes the halfcentury with a solemn chime,
And summons US together once again,
The Joy OF meeting not unmixed with pain.
Where are the others Voices from the deep