CLASS ODE.

As a traveller discerns through the mist far away

But the tempest-blown robes of the sea,

So to us who look forth from the shores of today

Come brief glimpses of life-times to be.

Though the lips of the ages be dumb and the eyes

Of the centuries blinded with tears,

Yet the hopes we now cherish forever shall rise -

Distant beacons to shine through the years.

And we linger today in this mid-arch of time,

And through infinite vistas behold

A light on the face of that future, sublime

As some sea-morning's splendor of gold;

And we walk forth to meet it - ah! mother, again

Ere we go hear our reverent vow -

Whatever befall, we must think of thee then

With the same love we bear to thee now!