. Consolatio. Ode in memory of those members of the class of nineteen hundred and three of Stanford University who died during the month of their graduation. NE sacred place, the central shrine of allHer joys and sorrows, nowat length hath grownComplete, since underits wallHer thousand sons anddaughters, at her callAnd that of Death, have come to mourn as one,—One heart that common griefs and fears havemade. Here they had sung and prayed,Here worshiped, in the shadeOf cloistered aisle and roof of storied stone;Here rolled the organs solemn voice,—Now whispered Hush!—now cried Re-joice!Here you
. Consolatio. Ode in memory of those members of the class of nineteen hundred and three of Stanford University who died during the month of their graduation. NE sacred place, the central shrine of allHer joys and sorrows, nowat length hath grownComplete, since underits wallHer thousand sons anddaughters, at her callAnd that of Death, have come to mourn as one,—One heart that common griefs and fears havemade. Here they had sung and prayed,Here worshiped, in the shadeOf cloistered aisle and roof of storied stone;Here rolled the organs solemn voice,—Now whispered Hush!—now cried Re-joice!Here youth and love had plighted troth,While seraphs leaned and smiled on both;Here crimson-tinted sunlight, reverent, kissedThe altar of the holy Eucharist. But one thing still was missed,—Sorrow, to fully consecrate the shrineOf love and pity and of hope , in the mystic presence of our dead,It hath been perfected. VL. UT they! O they were young,and hoped so much!The brow of youthwas brightWith dew that shimmered in the morning lightOf promises and prophecies,een suchAs none had dared to dream in earlier day. And in this time of May,One looking in the deeps of their young eyesCaught embryo glimpses of their comingstrength— Shadows of great emprise,And ghostly continents they should explore;New^ Darien peaks w^hereon to stand atlength. Masters of untold softer lights foretold the dreamsOf the sweet pangs of love, that sometimes seemsThe dearest hope which all this weary world heart of heaven I must now this bourgeon its happy future from our sight,Out from the Springs illimitable light,Fade in the dateless empire of the tomb ? VII.
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