Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 05.pdf/54

 A Judicial Anthology. THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN. [An ode, read at the opening of the Great Hall of the University, in 1873.]

No more the craftsman lingers Around the finished walls, But songs of many voices Ring through the sounding halls. They hail the work completed, They hail the mission planned, Of toil for thought and spirit, With rest for toiling hand. Rejoice, О bounteous mother! Thy home is broad and fair; And throngs of loving children Shall rise to bless thee there. From valley, plain, and mountain, Green isle and ocean shore, Young States and hoary kingdoms. They seek thy open door. With gracious welcome cheer them; Protect from guile and wrong; And make them wise with counsel, In faith and honor strong. So thou shalt be their glory And they shall be thy crown,— Their lives thy joy and comfort, Their fame thy best renown.

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The zephyr that with perfumed wing Played erewhile round our path Hath flown away with gentle spring From winter's waking wrath. The beautiful and fragrant flowers, Fair Nature's crown and pride, From rustic walks and garden bowers Have faded all and died. And I with sad, presageful heart Contemplate the decay, Till summoned in my turn to part, I, too, shall pass away. Sahnen Portland Chase. PARAPHRASE FROM ANACREON.

UNHAPPY he whose callous heart Ne'er felt the joys of love, Whose bosom, steeled to soft desires, Not Venus' self can move. Unhappy he who yields his heart A prey to Love's enchanting snare, Whose hopes of bliss alone depend On some inconstant fair. But more unhappy he who loves Yet meets no kind return, Whose sighs, whose tears and tender vows Are all repaid with scorn. Nathaniel Chip/nan.

Our hopes await the Future, Far off and dim and vast; But through thy courts are gliding Sweet memories of the Past. О house already hallowed By souls of truth and might, Forevermore within thee Be life and peace and light! /unies Valentine Campbell. T<> MISS

I.. C. I..

THE autumn wind sings mournfully The death-song of the year, And yielding to Time's stern decree, All bright things disappear.

HYMN BY TWILIGHT.

GOD is in the hues of heaven Fading from the sky and bay; God is in the shades of even That chase the heavenly hues away; God is in the torrent falling,— In the song of whip-poor-will, In the voice of shepherd calling, In the bleating on the hill. In the cloud the distance glooming. In the distant thunder's roar, In the far-off ocean booming On his everlasting short-.