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About The Hesperian / (Lincoln, Neb.) 1885-1899 | View Entire Issue (April 30, 1897)
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UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA.
LINCOLN, NEBRASKA, APRIL SO, 1807.
THE HESPERIAN WISHES YOU
Full Enjoyment of a Gladsome Spring.
SEER OF BEAUTY SING!
Soul children as of eld shall throng,
Shall heaven -ward striving, wing:
A whole world better for a song!
0 seer of beauty IngJ
P. H. Thomson.
TO THE "EXILE"
Rsick to your sea and your singing pines,
Where clo.e through the hill-tops the home star
Kill under the eyes of the prairie sky
You have walked with the wind In its wanderings
And the wind and the star lhat understand
They keep your song in the stranger land.
Hie children who laugh wheu the sun ilowers
Who knew not the hymn of the hills of God,
yiey love the plain where your weary eyes
ftiiind never the face of the grass flovvei rise:
They love the wind that is wild and strong,
That keeps in Its bosom the exiled song.
Worn gilds a course of level .ease;
Calm i is your voyage, sailor lad.
At mid-day gales are passion mad,
Sin reefs lie thick. In angry seas
1 w red sun drowns. One scarce grows glad
toward midnight when the channels freeze.
Edwin F. PirEU.
ENOUGH FOR ME FOR YOU?
Jst a small soft hand to clasp in mine
And the will to dare
y the nug that sparkles there.,
"wt curling LreHsoR silkily to twine
JUy round about
The marbly little throat,
Just two starry eyes to gaze into
A"l, us they decree,
Divinely blest to be,
DHMUMut rosy lip8 demanding duej
2uite enough for me. For you
H. JL Ateyaxijeu.
This body's but the heavy wall
That shuts us from the land
Of deathless life and love, where all
One day must surely stand.
Ofttimes we marvel at the peep
Uf wondrous things afar
Vouchsafed to us when kindly Sleep
The door has left ajar.
The darkness falls. We gasp for breath
Lo 1 Flooding every side,
The eternal sunshine streams, when Death
The portal opens wide.
Lucy Gakhison Gueen.
Oh joy ! I stretch my hands where Beauty flashes,
My all-desire, her winning smile love-gladd'ning,
Her breath of lotus sweet my senses madd'ning.
And clasp my God a hand of hot white ashes 1
AMY C. BltUNEE.
"IN CITY PENT"
You ask me where I'd like to be
In these spring days of perfect weather.
The thing I most would like to see
If 1 but bad my own way, whether
I think I'd stay right here in town
Or haste away. I'll answer that.
I'd like to lay my studies down
And seek the shining, shallow Platte.
I know a willow-bounded flat
Just back of Harry Pr-er's place,
A sweet, secluded, sun-kissed spot
With wave-caressed shingly face;
'Tis there I'd like to be to-day
Without a single thing to do
Hut just to dream and gaze away
In" the illimitable blue.
I'm heartsick now to hear the cry
Of wild fowl drifting down the stream,
To hear the hunter's shout close by.
To see his iirearm's changing gleam,
To hear the muffled rumble when
The bridge is crossed a mile away
To feel I'm near yet far from men;
OhJ Just to see the Piatt to-day.
Gdy W, Gkeen.
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