. Bowdoin Orient . r them. Next fall another Senior class will appearto take up the leadership in college life laiddown by 1911. To these men the Orientextends a hand of greeting, for we feel thatthe calibre of the men of 1912 is such as toassure a continuation of the clean, sincere. BOWDOIN ORIENT 77 harmonious relations that have existedthroughout the college during the past year. To Our DepartingProfessors To each and every one ofour faculty members whodepart for new fields at theclose of this year, the Orient extends thebest of good wishes. May your experienceshere have been such as to cre
. Bowdoin Orient . r them. Next fall another Senior class will appearto take up the leadership in college life laiddown by 1911. To these men the Orientextends a hand of greeting, for we feel thatthe calibre of the men of 1912 is such as toassure a continuation of the clean, sincere. BOWDOIN ORIENT 77 harmonious relations that have existedthroughout the college during the past year. To Our DepartingProfessors To each and every one ofour faculty members whodepart for new fields at theclose of this year, the Orient extends thebest of good wishes. May your experienceshere have been such as to create a warm spotin your heart for our old Maine college andmay the sun of prosperity shine upon you asyou journey from us. Continued from page 75 They came again. The heart of one who heldThe nations helm was hers. When wars dim shroudHad shadowed all the land, and mothers mournedTheir lost, Fair Bowdoin sorrowed for her rank by rank the weary files came welcomed men who wore Fames laurel wreath,. C. B. Hawes. Poet Howard, the hero of an empty sleeve, And Appomattox warrior chivalrous— The soldiers of a nations need, who knew The_ mother of us all, and called her theirs— Their names innumerable are. To us They seem a shadowed throng, a saintly, dim Unreal host departed. We have seen Them here and known them; wondered at their names;Yet hard it was for us to realizeThat they had fought on bloody fields and raisedThe Union from a worse than death. As mistThe visions come and go. The past is likeA mighty cloud that towers against the WestAnd bears the glory of the setting sun;The subtile masses hold a glancing fire;Supreme each phase—^more glorious than the last The light turns gold and purple, dies away. And rises on a splendor far more great. A pinnacle of dreams, a fairyland That comes and goes. The living light shall shine Forever, nevermore to fade nor dim. For in the glory of the morrow shall The past transcended be. The retrospect Is hidden by the d
Size: 1116px × 2239px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthorbowdoino, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookyear1912
