QUINQUENNIAL

Day follows night, and night brings day again, And solstice leaps to solstice, as the year Spins, with vicissitudes of joy and pain, Until in scenes by far-off youth made dear Our proud quinquennial again drawsnear. Once more the pipers of our close-knit clan Summon the clansmen to assemble here To gaze in steadfast friendship man on man, In sympathy unbroken since it first began.. Once we roamed scattered, recklessly enough, In random groups about this pleasant spot, To join in classroom or in combat rough, Prolific of our time, without a thought Of what associations here were wrought, Or how their bonds would influence our lives, Lavish of happiness, a careless lot, Building the Spirit of our Class, which thrives, And ever greater in our lessening ranks survives. When first we separated, youth but smiled And sauntered forth to win success, and. meet In orgiastic demonstration wild, Impetuous, with throb of flying feet, Undignified in learning's awful seat, And our quinquennial seasons rang With mad unholy midnights on the street, As once uncouth, grotesque, the Satyrs sprang, While Pan blew shrill and loud, and drunken Bacchus sang.

Then, as our classmates gathered dignity, Our tempo changed to sweet adagio And our reunions throbbed with symphony Of wondrous cadence, satisfying, slow, As horns with notes bucolic softly blow, Suggesting reveries of vernal climes, Where matted aimless flocks untended go While the rapt swain indites his clumsy rhymes, Until through evening's haze the far carillon chimes.

With each five years the potent symphony Grows ever richer to the Fiftieth. The pipers sound triumphant minstrelsy, Calling together over vale and heath The favored few untouched by eld or death. So the tired worker, peace within his breast, Enjoys his thoughts and evening's fragrant breath Until Diana's cadent crescent rims the west, The stars rush forth in throngs, and it is time to rest.

But we who banquet here are not alone: Among us sits a gallant company Of vanished comrades, loyal every one. Great gentlemen, and nobler far than we;— So will we always hold them reverently. And thee or me, ere yet this feast is o'er, A messenger unbidden noiselessly Taps on the shoulder, gliding o'er the floor, And bids the startled guest retire, and close the door.

They are not lost whose memories we love: The inspiration of their standards high Makes our achievement possible above What it were otherwise. They cannot die: Their lives and their examples purify Our own; their strength and their encouragement Dwell ever in our midst. We cannot sigh For them, but rather, with a proud content, Review their friendship to the Class, and what it meant.

All whom we love have made us what we are; We hold them fast in manhood's reverence:— The twain so lavish in unselfish care; She who bestowed her love and confidence On us; and troops of friends, whose influence For our deep welfare cannot be expressed. With years new friendships come in evidence; For young-eyed generations call us blessed And gather round each hearth, and make each home their nest. That fine old stock of sterling mind and worth Which first we knew has passed beyond recall: With changed conditions creeping o'er the earth, The Romes of Cato and of Juvenal Are mirrored in our lifetime. May we all Be kept apart from social crimes and greed, And may instruction in each College hall Have sane and righteous living as its creed, And give to troublous times men strong to help in need.

Our Class has realized many cherished hopes, With loyalty to College, State, and cause and friend, And not in vain upon our horoscopes Planets auspicious through the signs ascend And tutelary aid our projects lend. It is permitted one of humbler fate To glory in rewards his mates have gained In wealth and business, law, affairs of state,— In writing, science, medicine, and teaching great.

While thus we wrought, some lived the inner life, Eschewing gain, with mingled hopes and fears, To lift their fellows in their cares and strife. Which brings the question home: Throughout the years Have we e'en glimpsed the secret which inheres In life, in nature, and in destiny, Or faintly caught the music of the spheres? For he,who fails to search Reality Or rests indifferent, has missed life's purpose high.

Time built our class, and Time shall lay it low With all things mortal and ephemeral; But Time cannot efface our inner glow As long as thought remains, and we recall Our Class. So stands that temple's storied hall With metope or frieze or triglyph gone, Resistless in its beauty, ere its fall, To crown the hill its grandeur looked upon, And rear its majesty on high—the Parthenon!