Under the trees . TRETCHED under the-.^ ^:/ spreading brancheskv^ of this noble ehn,which has seen somany college genera-tions come and go,I have well-nigh forgotten that lifehas any limitations of space or time;work, anxiety, weariness fade out ofthought under a heaven from whichevery cloud has vanished, and the eyepierces everywhere the infinite depths ofthe upper firmament. Days are not alwaysradiant here, and the stream of life as itflows through this tranquil valley is fleckedwith shadows; but all sweet influences havecombined to touch this passing hour withunspeakable peace. Here are the
Under the trees . TRETCHED under the-.^ ^:/ spreading brancheskv^ of this noble ehn,which has seen somany college genera-tions come and go,I have well-nigh forgotten that lifehas any limitations of space or time;work, anxiety, weariness fade out ofthought under a heaven from whichevery cloud has vanished, and the eyepierces everywhere the infinite depths ofthe upper firmament. Days are not alwaysradiant here, and the stream of life as itflows through this tranquil valley is fleckedwith shadows; but all sweet influences havecombined to touch this passing hour withunspeakable peace. Here are the oldfamiliar footpaths trodden so often withhurrying feet in other years; here are thewell-worn seats about which familiar groups123 . »- \ J-Jt- J • ,v •; ^V j •?.\A/1^; kVn»,^. ^-J: •JVVii ///?^•(i^iii,^^ V/- i j-M iWi/c^v^Ai:: have so often gathered and sent the echoesof their songs tlying heavenward; here arethe rooms which will never lose the senseof home because of those who have lived inthem. The chapel bell tolls as of old, andthe crowd comes hurrying along like thegenerations before them, but the eye seesno familiar faces among them. It is aplace of intense and rich living, and yetto-day, and for me, it is a place of life once lived here is as truly finishedas if eternity had placed the impassablegulf between it and this quiet hour. Theseare the shores through which the river oncepassed, these the green fields which encir-cled it, these the mountains which flungtheir shadows over it, but the river itselfhas swept leagues onward. Mr. Higginson has written charminglyabout An Old Latin Text-Book, andthere is surely something magical in thepower with which these well-worn volumesla} their spell upon us, and carry us backto other scenes an
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectnatural, bookyear1902
