Poems Class of 29 (1851-1889) | Page 8

the asphodels blow!
Not life shall enlarge it nor death shall divide,--?No brother new-born finds his place at my side;?No titles shall freeze us, no grandeurs infest, .?His Honor, His Worship, are boys like the rest.
Some won the world's homage, their names we hold dear,--?But Friendship, not Fame, is the countersign here;?Make room by the conqueror crowned in the strife?For the comrade that limps from the battle of life!
What tongue talks of battle? Too long we have heard?In sorrow, in anguish, that terrible word;?It reddened the sunshine, it crimsoned the wave,?It sprinkled our doors with the blood of our brave.
Peace, Peace comes at last, with her garland of white;?Peace broods in all hearts as we gather to-night;?The blazon of Union spreads full in the sun;?We echo its words,--We are one! We are one!
ALL HERE
1867
IT is not what we say or sing,?That keeps our charm so long unbroken,?Though every lightest leaf we bring?May touch the heart as friendship's token;?Not what we sing or what we say?Can make us dearer to each other;?We love the singer and his lay,?But love as well the silent brother.
Yet bring whate'er your garden grows,?Thrice welcome to our smiles and praises;?Thanks for the myrtle and the rose,?Thanks for the marigolds and daisies;?One flower erelong we all shall claim,?Alas! unloved of Amaryllis--?Nature's last blossom-need I name?The wreath of threescore's silver lilies?
How many, brothers, meet to-night?Around our boyhood's covered embers??Go read the treasured names aright?The old triennial list remembers;?Though twenty wear the starry sign?That tells a life has broke its tether,?The fifty-eight of 'twenty-nineGod?bless THE Boys!--are all together!
These come with joyous look and word,?With friendly grasp and cheerful greeting,--?Those smile unseen, and move unheard,?The angel guests of every meeting;?They cast no shadow in the flame?That flushes from the gilded lustre,?But count us--we are still the same;?One earthly band, one heavenly cluster!
Love dies not when he bows his head?To pass beyond the narrow portals,--?The light these glowing moments shed?Wakes from their sleep our lost immortals;?They come as in their joyous prime,?Before their morning days were numbered,--?Death stays the envious hand of Time,--?The eyes have not grown dim that slumbered!
The paths that loving souls have trod?Arch o'er the dust where worldlings grovel?High as the zenith o'er the sod,--?The cross above the sexton's shovel!?We rise beyond the realms of day;?They seem to stoop from spheres of glory?With us one happy hour to stray,?While youth comes back in song and story.
Ah! ours is friendship true as steel?That war has tried in edge and temper;?It writes upon its sacred seal?The priest's /ubique--omnes--semper/!?It lends the sky a fairer sun?That cheers our lives with rays as steady?As if our footsteps had begun?To print the golden streets already!
The tangling years have clinched its knot?Too fast for mortal strength to sunder;?The lightning bolts of noon are shot;?No fear of evening's idle thunder!?Too late! too late!--no graceless hand?Shall stretch its cords in vain endeavor?To rive the close encircling band?That made and keeps us one forever!
So when upon the fated scroll?The falling stars have all descended,?And, blotted from the breathing roll,?Our little page of life is ended,?We ask but one memorial line?Traced on thy tablet, Gracious Mother?"My children. Boys of '29.?In pace. How they loved each other!"?ONCE MORE
ONCE MORE
1868
"Will I come?" That is pleasant! I beg to inquire?If the gun that I carry has ever missed fire??And which was the muster-roll-mention but one--?That missed your old comrade who carries the gun?
You see me as always, my hand on the lock,?The cap on the nipple, the hammer full cock;?It is rusty, some tell me; I heed not the scoff;?It is battered and bruised, but it always goes off!
"Is it loaded?" I'll bet you! What doesn't it hold??Rammed full to the muzzle with memories untold;?Why, it scares me to fire, lest the pieces should fly?Like the cannons that burst on the Fourth of July
One charge is a remnant of College-day dreams?(Its wadding is made of forensics and themes);?Ah, visions of fame! what a flash in the pan?As the trigger was pulled by each clever young man!
And love! Bless my stars, what a cartridge is there!?With a wadding of rose-leaves and ribbons and hair,--?All crammed in one verse to go off at a shot!?"Were there ever such sweethearts?" Of course there were not!
And next,--what a load! it wall split the old gun,--?Three fingers,--four fingers,--five fingers of fun!?Come tell me, gray sages, for mischief and noise?Was there ever a lot like us fellows, "The Boys"?
Bump I bump! down the staircase the cannon-ball goes,--?Aha, old Professor! Look out for your toes!?Don't think, my poor Tutor, to sleep in your bed,--?Two "Boys"--'twenty-niners-room over your head!
Remember the nights when the tar-barrel blazed!?From red "Massachusetts" the war-cry was raised;?And "Hollis " and "Stoughton " reechoed the call;?Till P----- poked his head out of Holworthy Hall!
Old P----, as we called him,--at fifty or so,--?Not exactly a bud, but not quite