Without him
our college would be incomplete. Esteemed by all for his unfailing
integrity and industry, laughed at by all for his oddities, he remains
ever the same. We trust that the day is far distant when he will be
among us no more, and when the college walls shall cease to echo his
chaotic and ungovernable eloquence.
_Quarterly_, 1869.
ATTIS
ANON.
Fair Phrygian Attis, loved of Cybele,
Fired with the service of her awful shrine,
Had wandered far before his restless soul
Along the gleaming sand-line of the beach.
At last he came to a deep shaded nook,
Where giant trees thick wreathed with twisting vines
Clomb the steep hills on every side but one,
And rimmed the sky with a green fringe of leaves.
But toward the south wide open to the shore
It seemed a lap, wherein the sun and sea
Together lay warm in each other's smiles.
Down the steep sides a little babbling brook
Leapt with low laughter, fleeing from itself,
Then, wid'ning out into a lucid pool,
Crept slowly seaward through low banks of fern.
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