. The mountains about Williamstown . NASIUM, MORGAN HALL, AND LABORATORIES, WITH BERLIN ABOVE A higher sightThan those on which contracted brows are bentIn library or laboratory.—Page 56 53 54 THe Movrntains Williamsto-wn So slowly, and, when one so longs to fly, So painfully?—And yet there sounds a bell From out the valley. Why this call to work? ^Vhy this reluctant journey down the hill?— One scarcely dare look backward till, at last, The autumns gold and crimson in the aisle That cleaves its glorious arch through Torreys woods Converts rebellious raving to remorse That, even for an
. The mountains about Williamstown . NASIUM, MORGAN HALL, AND LABORATORIES, WITH BERLIN ABOVE A higher sightThan those on which contracted brows are bentIn library or laboratory.—Page 56 53 54 THe Movrntains Williamsto-wn So slowly, and, when one so longs to fly, So painfully?—And yet there sounds a bell From out the valley. Why this call to work? ^Vhy this reluctant journey down the hill?— One scarcely dare look backward till, at last, The autumns gold and crimson in the aisle That cleaves its glorious arch through Torreys woods Converts rebellious raving to remorse That, even for an hour, one could forget What beauty waits in low as well as high— In all this realm, which nature, like a mother That loves her child, has fashioned for his home. Now back and dowoi again to book and duty!But who are these we meet?—Our comrades?—Oh,Were they of us?—^Alas, ye narrow , and fly, like slaves that would be free!Like those not made for soil but for the sky!Boimd down to petty tasks, more useless ye. DODDS CONE, WITH BERLIN JUST BEYOND THE LEFT No spirit uses wings in heaven that neverHas learned of them, or longed for them, on earth.—Page 57 55 56 The Mountains Abovit Williamsto-wn Than ships loosed never from their anchorage, Nor sailed to ports for which they have been freighted. Oh, think ye ends that souls were made to gain Were ever reached by one who never breathed A higher air, or saw a higher sight Than those on which contracted brows are bent In library or laboratory?—what?— Does thought grow broader, whittled down to point At microscopic nuclei of dust. As if the world were by, not with them, built?— As if the game of true success were played By matching parts whose wholes are curios? Nay, nay! Lifes greatest gain is life itself; And life, though lived in matter, is not of it; Not of the object that our aims pursue, Not of the body that pursues it, not Of all the world of which itself and we Are parts. Nay, all things that th
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidmountainsabo, bookyear1913
