Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Parting.
But then , the loving one that ' s with me shared All joy aud sorrow through a chequer d way , As though by suffering we were more endear'd , Ne ' er tiresbut tends me both by niht
, g and day . If aught on earth in suff ' ring can sustain , And in surrounding gloom a brightness shed , 'Tis thus—to find the loved one e ' er remain , Though faint and weary , watching by
my bed . Oh , loving Lord , who dost two hearts inspire With thine own sympathy so deep and wide ; To Thee in fervent prayer our hearts aspire , That we who ' re one on earth , may one in heaven abide .
A Review.
A Review .
Moritun Salutamus . Poem b y H . W . Longfellow . We have already reviewed the little volume in which this striking poem is to be found ; but we have felt ever since we
first read it , how well it deserves the appreciation of our readers in the "Masonic Magazine , " as few poems , in our humble opinion , have been so true a specimen of genuine poetry , and more certainly have had more to commend them
to the tastes and sympathies of all ages and all classes . But we will let the poetry speak for itself , keeping before us those well chosen lines which Mr . Longfellow gives us as a motto to his happy verse , well known to some of
us" Tempora labuntur , tacitisque senescimns annis , Et fugiunt freno non remorante dies . " OLD OVID . Let us listen to the introduction : — . " ' 0 Ceasar , we who are about to die , Salute you ! ' was the gladiators' cry In the arena , standing face to face With death aud with the Roman populace . "
With bnt little waste of words the poet advances very properly " rem , " for , 1 ^ us bear in mind that this is a poem written and spoken for the fiftieth anniversary of the Class of 1875 , in Bowdoin Collet U . S .: — h '
" 0 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 seclusion and repose Phantoms of fame , like exhalations , rose And vanished , —we who are to die Salute you ; earth and air and sea and sky , And the Imperial Sun that scatters down
His sovereign splendors upon grove and town . " And most true and touching is the apostrophe which follows : — " Ye do not answer us ! ye do not hear !
We are forgotten ; and in your austere And calm indifference , ye little care Whether we come or go , or whence or where .
What passing generations fill these halls What passing voices echo from these walls , Ye heed not ; we are only as the blast , A moment heard , and then forever past .
Not so the teachers who in earlier days Led our bewildered feet through learning ' s maze ; They answer us—alas . ' what have I said ? What greetings come there from the voiceless dead ? What salutation , welcome , or reply 1
What pressure from the hands that lifeless lie ? They are no longer here ; they all are gone Into the land of shadows , —all save one . Honor and reverence , and the good repute That follows faithful service as its fruit , Be unto him , whom living we salute . "
How very effecting are the following happy lines : — '' And ye who fill the places we once filled , And follow in the furrows that we tilled ,
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Parting.
But then , the loving one that ' s with me shared All joy aud sorrow through a chequer d way , As though by suffering we were more endear'd , Ne ' er tiresbut tends me both by niht
, g and day . If aught on earth in suff ' ring can sustain , And in surrounding gloom a brightness shed , 'Tis thus—to find the loved one e ' er remain , Though faint and weary , watching by
my bed . Oh , loving Lord , who dost two hearts inspire With thine own sympathy so deep and wide ; To Thee in fervent prayer our hearts aspire , That we who ' re one on earth , may one in heaven abide .
A Review.
A Review .
Moritun Salutamus . Poem b y H . W . Longfellow . We have already reviewed the little volume in which this striking poem is to be found ; but we have felt ever since we
first read it , how well it deserves the appreciation of our readers in the "Masonic Magazine , " as few poems , in our humble opinion , have been so true a specimen of genuine poetry , and more certainly have had more to commend them
to the tastes and sympathies of all ages and all classes . But we will let the poetry speak for itself , keeping before us those well chosen lines which Mr . Longfellow gives us as a motto to his happy verse , well known to some of
us" Tempora labuntur , tacitisque senescimns annis , Et fugiunt freno non remorante dies . " OLD OVID . Let us listen to the introduction : — . " ' 0 Ceasar , we who are about to die , Salute you ! ' was the gladiators' cry In the arena , standing face to face With death aud with the Roman populace . "
With bnt little waste of words the poet advances very properly " rem , " for , 1 ^ us bear in mind that this is a poem written and spoken for the fiftieth anniversary of the Class of 1875 , in Bowdoin Collet U . S .: — h '
" 0 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 seclusion and repose Phantoms of fame , like exhalations , rose And vanished , —we who are to die Salute you ; earth and air and sea and sky , And the Imperial Sun that scatters down
His sovereign splendors upon grove and town . " And most true and touching is the apostrophe which follows : — " Ye do not answer us ! ye do not hear !
We are forgotten ; and in your austere And calm indifference , ye little care Whether we come or go , or whence or where .
What passing generations fill these halls What passing voices echo from these walls , Ye heed not ; we are only as the blast , A moment heard , and then forever past .
Not so the teachers who in earlier days Led our bewildered feet through learning ' s maze ; They answer us—alas . ' what have I said ? What greetings come there from the voiceless dead ? What salutation , welcome , or reply 1
What pressure from the hands that lifeless lie ? They are no longer here ; they all are gone Into the land of shadows , —all save one . Honor and reverence , and the good repute That follows faithful service as its fruit , Be unto him , whom living we salute . "
How very effecting are the following happy lines : — '' And ye who fill the places we once filled , And follow in the furrows that we tilled ,