Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1911-06-21
The Class Poem.


After the orchestra had rendered an
other selection President Smith intro
dueed another Bangor boy. Charles
Baefdman Halves, who delivered the fol
lowing poem: 81.
We standing here today are not alone.
The years long. past are nov ring phan-
ton-wIHged
About ua sim Dim olden memories
And potent legends of an earlier day
Are ours. An hundred neetiuS years
have sped
Since eut from Bowdoin,s halls they
went Who were
Her earliest class. Their flames and for
tunes linked
With ours remain, for she whom We
have hailed
The fostrlns mother OF our youthful
Watched them departing in the fading
of eTentide. Fair spirit Of the pines.
The hfst has gone. the last shall never
come
Each class in turn is hers to guard and
Each from her loving charge goes forth
Its place ssaiust the warfare of the
She knows and loves them all Grave
men and sad.
Mere boys who laughed and died. she
bade them go,
To welcome them again. Her fond eyes
watched
Their every step: their honors all are
hers
The echoed names of Bowdoin's sons
have rUng
From arch to arch adown the vaulfed
halls
of fame The sea of time shall sound
swirlins against the iutting crags that
Tomorrow and tomorrow from that
Futufity. that looms beyond uutricd.
The singer and the teller OF fair tales
Went from her shrine. She watched
They came again. The heart of one who
The nations helm was hers. When
wars dim shroud
Had Swallowed all the land. and mothers
Their LOST, Fair Bowdoia sorrowed for
her slain.
When rank by rank the weary files
came back
She welcomed men who wore flames
laurel wreath.
Howard. the hero of an empty sleeve,
And Appomatt0X' warrior chipalrous
The soldiers of nations need who
The mother of us all, and called her
Their ma names innumerable are. To us
They seem a Swallowed throng, sanity
Unreal host departed We have seen
Them here and known them; wondered
al their names;
Yet hard il WAS Tor us to realize
That they had fought on bloody fields
The Union from worse than death. As
The visions come and 60 The past Is
A mighty cloud that towers against the
West
And bears the glory OF the setting sun;
h.Il ola sinfr fire.
Supreme each phase-more glorious hiar
The last
The light turns gold and purple, dies
And rises on splendor far more great
4 pinnacle of dreams fairyland
That comes and goes! The living light
Eoreye 1. uey&rmore TO fade nor dim
For in the glory Of the morrow shall
The past -atranseended be. The retro
Is hidden by the dawn-all hail the
Today VT tho fostering mother sits above
Her winding paths, her lowered walls
stil spires that reach and touch the
The brooding genius. of the pines, she
looks
What hidden thoughts are hers we may
Her Henetrating glance has pierced the
OF ti NEE her sibyl mind has marked the
To come Age; old ami ever young. she
reigns
The mistress Of a many honorod Shrine
| Whereon repose fair gifts and laire
wrought from the life blood Of her sons
These walls,
Inscribed with sacred names that fr'
| the soul.
Arc hers. a monument more lasting still
OF song and tale is hers, But create
And dearer is that heritage of deeds
Unsung. or honor, faith and trust be
By item eni'' Who toll against the face o
| odds.
Whose iahors knew no rest, but who up
rose
From failure and disbursement, VIII
| bore
Their banners ever high. who marches
| and fought
With honor 10 the end. Them too sh
/ watched,
For they TOO were her sons.
And now she stu