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CLASS OF '29.
FOR THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1856.
You'll believe me, dear boys, 't is a pleasure to rise
Were I gray as the grayest old rat in the wall,
There are noontides of autumn, when summer returns, Though the leaves are all garnered and sealed in their
urns, And the bird on his perch that was silent so long Believes the sweet sunshine and breaks into song.
I gre you Home! its crossing lines
United in one golden suture,
The present growing to the future, —
Lope bright ring, with love for centre, Faded round with white and crimson bars,
No prowling treason dares to enter!
orders home may be a word
To rate atteetion's living treasure — The rise an angel might have stirred —
A u szt pool of selfish pleasure; E n : I: is where the day-star springs
Li veze the evening sun reposes,
era dhe eagle spreads his wings, F a ecrižern pines to southern roses !
THE NEW EDIN.
(MEETING OF THE BEKKSHIRE HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY, AT
STOCKBRIDGE, SEPT. 18, 1864.)
SCARCE could the parting ocean close
Seamed by the Mayflower's cleavin: .
The waves that tracker the P
Then sprang from manrs & Tuberen en
The rippling rast. fi bogumu
To scanty sul an free E.
But when ti fitur det bien dans
And Autumn vrouens par, La
The mb-108 CHF
We have caged the young birds of our beautiful June:
The voices of morning! How sweet is their thrill When the shadows have turned, and the evening grows
still! The text of our lives may get wiser with age, But the print was so fair on its twentieth page!
Look off from your goblet and up from your plate, Come, take the last journal and glance at its date, — Then think what we fellows should say and should do, If the 6 were a 9, and the 5 were a 2.
Ah no! For the shapes that would meet with us here From the far land of shadows are ever too dear! Though youth flung around us its pride and its charms, We should see but the comrades we clasped in our arms.
A health to our future, - a sigh for our past !
FOR THE MEETING OF THE BURNS CLUB.
The mountains glitter in the snow
A thousand leagues asunder ;
I hear their voice of thunder ;
A flowing stream is summoned; Wachusett to Ben Nevis drinks ;
Monadnock to Ben Lomond !
Though years have clipped the eagle's plume
That crowned the chieftain's bonnet, The sun still sees the heather bloom,
The silver mists lie on it;
What stride was ever bolder
Beneath the plaided shoulder ?