1 For nearly forty years, from 1851 to 1889, Holmes never failed to bring a poem to the annual reunion of his college class. These poems, merely occasional,' and local as they were in origin, form a section in his collected works which is perhaps the most important, and, except for his best humorous narratives and his two finest lyrics, the most likely to survive; for, with all Holmes's characteristic wit and humor, they celebrate feelings that are broadly and typically American class loyalty and college loyalty, and growing out of these, the loyalty of man's enduring friendship, and loyalty to country. The famous class of '29' counted among its members a chief-justice of Massachusetts, George T. Bigelow (the 'Judge' of this poem); a justice of the United That boy with the grave mathematical look Made believe he had written a wonderful book, And the ROYAL SOCIETY thought it was true! So they chose him right in; a good joke it was, too! States Supreme Court, B. R. Curtis (the boy with the three-decker brain'); the great preacher, James Freeman Clarke; Professor Benjamin Peirce (that boy with the grave mathematical look'); and the author of America,' S. F. Smith. For a full list of members of the class, see the Cambridge Edition of Holmes's Poetical Works, p. 340. 1 Hon. Francis B. Crowninshield, Speaker of the Massachusetts House of Representatives. 2 G. W. Richardson, of Worcester, Massachusetts. 3 Hon. George L. Davis. What though the bright blue ocean is smooth as a pond can be, And when on the western summits the fading light appears, There is always a line of breakers to fringe It touches with rosy fingers the last of my the broadest sea. fifty years. THE piping of our slender, peaceful reeds Whispers uncared for while the trumpets bray; Song is thin air; our hearts' exulting play Beats time but to the tread of marching deeds, Following the mighty van that Freedom leads, Her glorious standard flaming to the day! The crimsoned pavement where a hero bleeds Breathes nobler lessons than the poet's lay. Strong arms, broad breasts, brave hearts, are better worth Than strains that sing the ravished echoes dumb.. Hark! 't is the loud reverberating drum Rolls o'er the prairied West, the rock-bound North: The myriad-handed Future stretches forth Its shadowy palms. Behold, we come, we come! Turn o'er these idle leaves. Such toys as these Were not unsought for, as, in languid dreams, We lay beside our lotus-feeding streams, Glare from the mustering clouds whose blackness seems Too swollen to hold its lightning from the trees. |