New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1880-09-19
unite as strongly marked as the more placid ana
neditatiye cbeerfulness of his elder compauion


7 come not here your morning hour to sadden,
hmping pilgrim, leaning on Dis sihn
l. who have never deemed " ain to gladden.
This vale OF sorrows with wholesome iaush'
rora ., p,ne snotbcr,s gloom has frightened
Through my dumb lips tho heaveu-seht "eSSako
T, hand vsa of mine another's task has lightened
IL fell the guidance that 1t dares not caii
But, o my gentle sisters, Q my brothers,
These thicksown snow-fakes hint OF Tolls re'eass'
These fee bier pulses bid me leave 20 others
The tasks once welcome; evening asks Ior peace
Time claims his tribute silence now is godeni
Let not vex he too long suilerlng g, ly Tyr,
Though to your love untiring still beholdehs
The curfew tells me-cOver up the nre'
Ills especiaIly in the poems written for various
anniversary celebrations-the Harvard Alumni dln-
nor of 1879, the annual meetings of the Glass OF
,2o the centenary of Phillips Academy-that the
smiling and contented poet BIDS us remark his
gray hairs and remember how long he has been
SINGING for us but perhaps it is also In these sober
and regretful verses that we perceive most clearly
how voupg his heart always 10. One OF the three
mems nrcpared for the annual meetings OF the
Class of 500 Is entitled THE Last SURVIVOR
Yes, the vacant chairs tell sadly are going, going
And the thought strangely DER me, who viii live
When the twentieth centurys sunbeams climb the farof
With hjs ninety winters burdened will he greet the
morning still
VIII he stand with HarYdrd5 nufslnRs Whcu
And the Old md young are gathered the many allowed
Will he answer to the when they range them
serves IN line 49,, ,.o, oo,,a o,t .c,oss
And the Young mustachioed marshal cals OUT Oiass
OF '29"i
Methpks see the column its heightened ranks ap
In the sunshine of the morrow of the nineteen hun
Through The yard It's creeping. winding, by the walls Of
dusky ID
What shape is that which tottcrs the long prOcessions
headl
Who knows this ancient graduate Of ourscore years and
What p ce he held what he bore among the sons
OF men
So speeds the curious questions It's answer travels slow
ls the last OF sixty classmates OF seventy years ago
HIS figure shows hut dliuy hi. face 1 can see
THERE'S aomeihIng that reminds melt looks like-is
Hcl wnol No voice may whisper what wrinkled
brow shall claim
The wreath o stars that circles our last survivors, name
VIII he minstrel left to pipe IN feeble
All the iories and the gores of gay and golden
Or some quiet vocoess brother in whose lonely loving
Fond memory broods IN silence ike dove upon her
nestG
Will II be some old Emeritus who taught so long ago
The boys that heard MN lecture nave heads as white as
snOwl
Or pous painful preacher holding forth from year to
rin bis colleague got colleague whom the young folks
Hooked to hcari
VIII it he rich old merchant in square-tied white
crayat,
Or srlecfman Of n village In n prehistoric haiti
VIII lis dwelling he mansion In marble rontod row,
Or by hillside where the hucEleOerrles
grOwf
Another class poem. n modernized version of
"The Archbishop and Gil Bias" so recently printed
in The Atlaafc Monthly that 1t would be suDeriu-
GUS to copy from it now. is more decidedly Jocund.
In these days of literary gloom, distress and pas
sion It is encouraging to turn to the pure pages OF
the gentle and thoughtful singers who have found
in long life neither vanity nor vexation of spirit.
and in an honored old age neither bitterness nor
disappointment.