The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1900-06-19


A giant climb'd the Heavens height,
And stole from there the sacred fire
Then suffered woe thro' Jove's dread
might.
The youthful poets nowadays
Are daring as Prometheus self,
Right boldly scale Piera s mount
Returning with their stolen pelf.
No Jove lives now to punish them,
Small reck, they of the peoples rage
Yet bow and scrape and kneel before
The judgment-seat of critic sage.
Such poet I'd not will to be
Who steals and dares not own the theft,
Who palms off thoughts of other men
And poe kets picks with fingers deft.
But humble clerk in bookstore old
Who gently fondles ancient tonnes,
And brings into the light Of day
Quaint thoughts from dim and dusty
homes.
Thoughts that for you have long lain hid
Or undeservedly forgot
Perchanoe I'll lay before you now
As pleases you take them or not.
One book I'd show you first OF all,
Nor very new nor very old,
Is handed down from Oxford's shelf
Where stores of wisdom lie untold.
The general theme-an honest one
That every man of every kind
Where'er you come TO know him well
A right good fellow you will find.
As when you pass along the woods
And all seems green and much the
same,
You mark little trailing flower
Whose blossoms hide themselves from
fame.
And one you pluck, and many see
All come to view In clusters thick,
Ills so with good points In man
One found-and others follow quick.
In that's the joy Of college life
You get to know the good from i'll,
To find in every one more good
As every merry farer Will.
The athlete with his Bowdoin grit,
Who Homer says more glory wins
By hand and foot, than poets do
Who rant at mankind for their sins.
The Glee Club man with cap so fine
The scholar with his lofty aim,
Our Orator with voice so big
Fen Ivy Bard with verses lame.
Our valiant sun-burned soldier man,
Our yachtsnan from fair Casco Bay
All Jolly, heart-free college boys
There's room for all, my lads, for aye.
The poet of good comradeship
Whose works with college gaiety sound,
Has sung the weather's always fair
Where comrades staunoh and true are
found.
We know IL well-the storm may break
Upon the campus, halls and trees
Yet all the merry rooms within
Are filled with countless iOllitieS,
A song is heard-phi Chi, of course
The good old words go dancing fun,
With lusty shouts and loyal hearts
And thanks to God and Ninetee n
One"
The song died down-one starts the jest
Another dreams of fair blue eyes,
The smoke, the banjo's twang within
Care little for the angry skies.
And yet mid all the joy, the cheer,
The melody of college life,
Comes sudden news with sorrow rife,
Sad minor chord presaging fear.
With voices hushed and spirits awed
We misunderstanding seems the gloom
We dread TO hear of a classmates doom
BY tragic fate sent to his God
Can it he true? Has not the wire
Sad tidings falsely sped along
Has one SO gay, so young, so strong
So like ourselves met ends so dires
Such things must be; they only show
/ That in this college life of ours
Sadness creeps In just as in yours
And makes us deaths dim darkness
know.
And still there is more good than bad
More Joy than s)rrow In our lives,
More mcmillan prigs, thanks to our
home,-
Old Bowdoin, where true manhood
thrtves.
Old Bowdoin, fair of fame, as bright to-
day,
AS when the poet walked thy paths of
shade.
Giving to every son his own loved way
Since the romancer dreamed thro'
gloomy glade
Bowdoin, from birth the nurturer of men
For this we honor thee, we love thee
we'll,
That freedom, fellowship, with all their
ken
Do meath thy pines and oaks forever
dwell.
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