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V




THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES



YALE VERSE



COMPILED BY

ROBERT MOSES, '09

Editor of the Yale Couraitt
AND

CARL H. P. THURSTON, '09

Editor of the Yale Literary Magazine



NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT

YALE PUBLISHING ASSOCIATION
1909



Copyright, 1909

By Yale Publishing Association
(incorporated)



The Plimpton Press Norwood Mass. U.S.A.



m



SDebication

"Mother of Men, grown strong in giving
Honor to them thy Hghts have led;
Rich in the toil of thousands living,
Proud of the deeds of thousands dead,
We who have felt thy power and known

thee,
We in whose work thy gifts avail,
High in our hearts enshrined enthrone thee,
Mother of Men, Old Yale."

W. B. Hooker.



ni



1839728



FOREWORD

Two compilations of Yale verse have been
issued in recent years, one in 1889 and one
in 1899, and both were favorably received.
The last ten years have been marked by a
decided improvement in undergraduate
verse, and we feel that no apology is neces-
sary for offering a third volume, covering
that period. We have tried to select from
the undergraduate publications, the Yale
Literary Magazine, Yale Courant, Yale
Record, and short-lived Yale Monthly, and
from the series of University Prize Poems the
best verse, regardless of subject and form;
but where there is so much that is good it is
difficult to choose, and we must plead per-
sonal taste as the basis of many final deci-
sions. We regret several omissions which
are due to the loss of a number of Courant
files. The meager representation of Record
verse calls for comment; we can only say
that, in general, it seemed too topical in



FOREWORD

character; there are many clever, witty
conceits in verse form, but little poetry.

Our thanks are due to Professor Cook
and to the Editors of the Literary Maga(ine,
Courant, and Record for permission to re-
print the poems which appear here.

The Editors.



VI



CONTENTS



Argalus and Parthenia G. B. Leicester

Attila U.S. Love joy .

" As From the Past " W.R.Benet .

Ballad of Boyhood Bay, A H. A. Plummer

Ballad of King Gradlon L. C. Frost .

Ballade of November, A J. H. Wallis

Ballade of the Dreamland Rose . . . A>ion. . . .

Ballade of the Golden Horn L. Bacon . .

Ballade of Myself and Monsieur Rabelais L. Bacon . .

Ballade of Other Idols L. Bacon . .

Ballade of the Prom, A Anon. . . .

Battell's Chimes, On O.H. Cooper, Jr

Battle Song of Attila R. M. Edmonds

Beethoven R. W. Westcott

Behind the Arras H. S. Lewis.

Ben Jonsoii, To /. N. Greely

Calling of the River, The E. L. Fox . .

Content J.N. Greely

Cradle Song S. M. Harrington

Daisies C.H. P. Thurston

Death and the Monk A.E.Baker. .

Death's Head at the Feast, The . . . W. B. Hooker .

Dutch Lullaby H. A. Plummer

Echoes W. B. Hooker .



PAGE
20
98

I2f)
106

99
186
188

I
26

141

104

77
128

54

25

117

105

76

184

175
79

143
82



Vll



CONTENTS

PAGE

Elizabeth Anon 130

Epigrams R.T. Kerlin . . 92

Exit Homo H. S. Lewis. . . 124

Eye of My Lord The King, The . . E. L. Fox .... 151

Father Kileen H. S. Levels ... 180

Fishing Song H. A. Webster . . 93

Forgiven Anon 89

Forgotten Grotto, A IF. S. Hastings . 66

From the City A.Updegraff . . 120

Garden Song W. B. Hooker . . 146

Gun-Casting, The H.W. Stokes . . 42

Hermit's Prayer, The G. H. Soiile, Jr. . 112

Holiness R. W. Weslcott . 88

Ideal, The A. Updegraff . . 19

Incense Dance, The T. L. Riggs . . 166

In Vagabond Golden and Vagabond Gray S. M. Harrington 1 1 o

*I.xion W. B. Hooker . . 5

Japanese Serenade W. R. Kinney . . 144

Kamal of Isfahan A. Updegraff . . 67

Last Ballade, The T. Beer .... 162

Last Vagabond, The J.N.Greely . . 157

Latest Toast, The R. W. Walker . . 86

LTnconnu D. Bruce .... 73

Line Men, The W.R.Bcnet. . . loi

Maeterlinck, To J. S. Newberry . 28

Matin Song E. L. Fox ... 172

Meed of Sorrow G. H . Sonic, .Ir. . 14S

Meteor, The H.W. Stokes . . 97

Mona Lisa R. Moses .... 95

viii



CONTENTS

PAGE

Moon-Fairies : . . E.K. Morse . . 185

♦Mother's Sleep, The C. A. Kellogg, Jr. 48

Never Fear R. Morris ... 53

Odysseus at Ogygia H. S. Lewis . . 63

Old Arcade, The W. R. Walker . . 83

Old Library, To the S.N. Holliday . 18

On Seeing the Woodland Players . . /. N. Greely . . 24

Parting Word, A E.L.Fox. . . . 190

*Passio XL Martyrum A.E.Baker. . . 131

Pastoral R. M. Cleveland . 183

Pipe-Lighting Time E.L.Fox . . .125

Puck, to Queen Mab H. S. Lewis . . 23

Rain-Swept Garden, The H. S. Lovejoy . . 30

Ring of Gustavus Adolphus, The . . H. S. Lovejoy . . 43

Royal Mail, The E. L. Fox ... 169

Saint Hubert . . . H. S. Lewis . . 173

( Calypso ) ,„„,,, 64

♦Sonnets I ^^^P^^^ [ ^-^-Wkeeler. . ,^

Sonnet to John Keats, .A. L Goddard . . . 171

Song for the Even-Tide P. T. Gilbert . . 182

( Vivian's Song ) ^, , , . 31

*Songs I R„,,,,, . ' [ C.B. Hoichk^ss . ,^

Sprightly Ballafl of Mistress Molly, The R. W. Walker . . 38

Toast, A S.M. Harrington 37

Twilight in March R. Westcott . . .123

Villon in Prison H.C. Robbins . 159

Voltaire to a Young Man B. A. Welch . . 90

Wanderer, The G. H. Soule, Jr. . 61

Wandering Jew, The E. L. Fox ... 107

ix



CONTENTS

PAGE

When Pine Trees Whistle W.Richardson . 121

When Viziers Speak H. S. Lewis . . 71

Winter Sea, A W.Richardson . 129

Wooster Square S". A'^. Deane . . 16

Work-God, The E. L. Fox ... 34

♦ University Prize Poem.



CONTRIBUTORS

PAGE

Bacon, L i, 26, 27, 188-189

Baker, A. E 131-140, i75-i79

Beer, T 162-165

Benet, W. R 101-103, 126-127

Bruce, D 73-75

Cleveland, R. M 183

Cooper, O. H., Jr 104

Deane, S. N 16, 17

Edmonds, R. M 77-78

Fox, E. L. ... 34-36, 107-109, 117-119, 125,

151-153, 169-170, 172, 190-191

Frost, L. C 154-156

Gilbert, P. T 182

Goddard, 1 171

Greely, J. N 24, 25, 105, 157-158

Harrington, S. M 37. 76

Hastings, W. S 66

Holliday, S. N 18

Hooker, W. B. . . 5-15, 79-82, 146, 147, 186-187

Hotchkiss, G. B 31,32, 33

Kellogg, C. A., Jr 48-52

Kerlin, R. T 92

Kinney, W. R 144-145

Leicester, G. B 22

xi



CONTRIBUTORS

PAGE

Lewis, H. S 23, 54-60, 63, 71-72, 124,

173-174, 180-181

Lovejoy, H. S 30, 43-47, 98

Morris, R 53

Morse, E. K 185

Moses, R 95-96

Newberry, J. S 28, 29

Plummer, H. A 106, 143

Richardson, W 1 21-122, 129

Riggs, T. L 166-168

Robbins, H. C 159-161

Soule, G. H., Jr 61-62, 11 2-1 16

Stokes, H. W 42, 97

Thurston, C. H. P 184

Updegraff, A 19, 67-70, 120

Walker, R. W 38-41, 83-85, 86-87

Wallis, J. H 99-100

Webster, H. A 93-94

Welch, B. A 90-91

Westcott, R. W 88,123,128

Wheeler, A. S 64, 65



Xll



BALLADE OF MYSELF AND
MONSIEUR RABELAIS

King Henry hath his amber wine,
And Frank of Guise, as gossips tell.
Eats every day a capon fine
And sneers at hock and hydromel.
But as for us we'd rather dwell
A little from the world away,
Although we love its cheer right well.
Myself and Monsieur Rabelais.

Of Panurge on the restless brine
He hath a jolly tale to tell,
Of how Gargantua did dine,
Or of the great Pantagruel,
And what adventure him befell,
To make one laugh a summer's day.
We get on marvelously well,
Myself and Monsieur Rabelais.

Though churchmen rant of wrath divine
Or Saint of Sales our doom foretell.



MONSIEUR RABELAIS

"Twill all come right," as we opine,
Though Pope or Luther burn in Hell.
The mystery of the flask to spell
Brings better hope of judgment day,
Which comforts both of us full well,
Myself and Monsieur Rabelais.

ENVOI

Prince! in strict fact, although we dwell
Three merry centuries away,
We hob and nob surpassing well,
Myself and Monsieur Rabelais.

Leonard Bacon.



SOLVITUR ACRIS HIEMS

Now April from her brimming cup

Hath sprinkled all the dusty town;
Once more the open cars run up

And down.

Now from his hoard the Freshman brings

Glad raiment, and superbly throws
His old, unhappy, cast-off things

To Mose.

And now delivered from the gym

The clamant coach invokes the eight.
With vigor, that I may not im-
itate.

For sentiments so warmly dressed,

So clothed with prefix and with affix.
Are not conveniently expressed

In Sapphics.

Deserted now, the fire that gave

A friendly glow to Temple Bar
Lies smouldering, like a Judges' Cave

Cigar.

3



SOLVITUR ACRIS HIEMS

And let by Pan's alluring pipe,

You hail at the Savinian Rock
His goat, the classic prototype

Of bock.

And celebrate — we did, 1 know,

When daily themes began to irk us —
The rites of that lihidino-

-sus hircus.

In vain: can piety recall

The flying years? Howe'er we boast,
The fatal sheepskin waits for all

(almost).

Labuntur anni; yes, and then

Of all that fame and fortune seek
Thrice happy he who earns his ten

Per week.

— Ah! happy Sestius, you smile.

Nor need 1 wish my song unsung;
You've guessed my moral: Go it while

You're young.

Charles E. Mhrrill, Jr.
4



IX ION

My wheel turns and I turn unendingly
Amid the wreck of souls to whom remain
No hope, no wish but one — the wish to die,
The longing of the dead to die again.
The sights I see would blast an earthly

eye,
The horrors I hear no tongue may put in

words ;
And all around me roars the rage of gods —
Turning eternally in endless pain.

Above me a great blackness, like a cloud
At midnight, swaying and breaking into

bulks
That hurl across each other as a wind
Drives mass on mass against the thunder-
storm.
Anon it opens cavern-deep, and shows
Behind, dim gulfs of greater dark; anon
It closes inward, smoothly domed — no
sound

5



IXION

But never still. Under me lies the floor
Of Hades, ribbed and ridged and chiseled

out
In curious figures, like the sand of the sea.
And now and then it breaks, and Tartarus
Flares forth in flashes of pale flame, and

screams
Come from beneath, and crowds of shudder-
ing sparks
Rush upward as in terror; then a surge
Of billowy smoke, tinged red with fires

below,
Floats up and merges in the gloom above,
And the crack bites its lip, and the wails are

hushed,
And Hades turns to its own toil.

I look
Upward, and wonder where our old earth

lies.
How far beyond that veil of angry dark —
Farther 1 know than heaven above the

earth!
Yet I am linked, bound by some deathless

chain



IXION

To earth and life. The long full summer-
time
Faints into autumn, and the wintry blast
Howls down the wold, but wakes no answer-
ing sign
In these grim skies — and yet I feel that

frost
Deep down within myself. I feel the spring
Steal onward with warm winds and blossom-
ing smells,
Pale baby-leaves and breaths of hidden

bloom.
Somewhere far, far above me, violets
Grope down their roots in the soft earth,

and turn
Their tiny faces to the sun, and smile
Through tears of dew — I trod on violets

once!
Somewhere a wind stirs in the cypresses,
And the owl hoots and the moon pales —

I once
Held death in scorn, a thing too far to fear.
Somewhere broad roses open wide at eve.
Bare their rich bosoms to the breeze that
faints



IXION

Caressing them, and shake their leaves and

laugh,
And all the dimness maddens like new wine,
And nymphs peep out between the boughs,

and songs
Come faint across dark water — oh, to be
One moment what I once was! Oh, to hear
The whisper of the woods, and see the thorn
Snow down her sweetness on the green, and

feel
The music of the spring beat in my blood,
And the fresh odors leap into my brain.
And know naught ill, a child with a child's

eyes
One moment ! Once 1 deemed myself a god.
And now — my wheel turns on unendingly
Amid the wreck of souls to whom remain
Nor life nor death — nor death nor life

have 1,
The very spouse and paramour of pain!

The rage of gods! — What are the gods to

me?
I have moved among the gods a mortal man.
Dwelt with them on Olympus, felt the clouds

8



IXION

Bend to my footstep, seen the sun flash by,

A bHnding car with Helios at the reins.

I have seen the moon close by me in the

night.
And heard the singing of the stars at dawn,
I half awake among the slumbering gods.
Do I not know them wholly? Ah, my

Queen
Of Heaven, one deathless moment mine in

spite
Of law and gods and Fate — have I not

known?
How amber-bright shine all those distant

days
Even to my dizzy thought ! I seem to see
Amid that eddying blackness overhead
Olympus with its floors of gold, its walls
Of amethyst and opal, shining clear
In the sweet light that floats above the

world ;
And round the board the faces of the gods
Glad with dark wine, as 1 beheld them first
New raised among them. Zeus dome-
browed, serene
With unresisted empire, hugely calm

9



IXION

Like Ocean — yet I noted even then

The subtle brands of fear, — the drooping

lip
Behind his beard, the specter in his look,
That marked him more than god but less

than man,
Coward omnipotence; Athena, bright
With panoply, the gorgon Aegis hung
Before the f rory splendor of her breast ;
Artemis, white, shadow-eyed, tremulous;
And Aphrodite born of sun and foam,
That bride-face dewy-dim with tenderness,
That softly-yearning esctasy of form,
So beautiful her beauty made me faint,
So sweet her sweetness almost bent my will
And shamed me downward to humanity.
Until I thought of Smyrna's son — and

laughed ;
And turned to where She sat, my goddess-
queen,
My full-blown Hera, blooming a red rose
Amid the Olympian lilies, richly dark
With congregated sweet — and saw the day
Turn summer moonlight in her dusk of hair,
And all the feverish soutl; pant on her lip —

10



IXION

Thereafter gods and men 1 held in scorn,
Accepting all my fate. I know the gods,
Not as pale priests and raving oracles,
Not as weak women, dazzled, worshiping,
But as a strong man knows a stronger man,
Nor fears nor worships him — stronger

than I
Or else I were not here; unearthly fair
Or I had not gone mad. Why was I born
A spirit greater than my strength, a soul
That could love utterly but could not fear?

Then passed long days of calm divinity,

I moving on unfaltering in my will

Void of all fear — how could I fear? I

loved —
Setting against the wisdom of the gods
My human craft, against their watchful

sight
The flame of my desire. The eye of Zeus
Ranged over earth and heaven, and read

the hearts
Of men, followed the courses of the stars,
And bared the secrets of the scheming gods,
But saw me not. And at the last we met,

1 1



IXION

Hera and I — night on the Sacred Mount
Deep with the stillness of eternity,
The stars above us, and beneath our feet
A great storm roaring out across the sea,
A pregnant hush all round us — face to face
We stood, and all my soul rushed out in

speech.
I know not what I said. I scarcely knew
I spoke, but vaguely wondered at the sound
Of my own voice. I ceased. And then —

and then
My goddess melted into womanhood,
My Queen bent down from deity to me.
Clung in my arms with her great eyes on fire
A moment — then our lips closed, and my

heart
Staggered into my ears, and the stars went

out.
And the heavens rocked around us, and the

dark
Grew gleaming green, and for one breath

we hung
Poised in the soul of a great emerald
Shot through and through with lightnings.

Then a voice

12



IXION

Amid the throbbing blindness of my brain,
Calm, small, and cold, and seeming far

away —
The voice of Zeus.

And then I feared him not —
I cursed his calm face while they bound me

here.
Lord Zeus, the jealous husband! Is it his,
His all the empire of the spaces, his
The joys, the woes of worlds? I know you,

gods —
Thieves, perjurers, adulterers are ye all.
Hark to my supplication, blessed ones!
I would stretch forth my hands, but they

are bound —
Hear my repentance — in thy teeth, O

Zeus,
The scorn of him thou hatest!

Was it my sin,
Beautiful gods, to know you overwell?
What have I done that others have not done
As ill or worse — Sisyphus the arch-thief
Heaving his stone with groanings up the

height

13



IXION

Endlessly, foiled and mocked at the very

goal —
What is the labor of men but such as his?
Tantalus the god-soiler, grasping at
The vain fruit, stooping to the falling wave.
Teased into madness, laughing hideously —
What is the pleasure of men but such as his?
They but relive their lives. I turn and yearn
Bound, futile, helpless body and brain —

no task
However vain, no joy in sight to seek
However vainly — only round and round,
And every passive limb is strained and

stung;
Still round and round; and all my thought

grows drunk
With motion never ending, and the dark
Is full of horrid eyes that whirl like wheels
And whirling wheels that glare like horrid

eyes,
On every wheel a dumb Ixion, bound
And bleeding, longing for the lashing flames
Of Tartarus that smother sense in shrieks.
And all the wild wheels whisper as they

whirl,

•4



IXION

A sound like kisses — and the whisper

grows ;
And Hades rocks and totters to the sound,
And swells and orbs, a globe of tremulous

gloom.
And shatters into whirling nothingness.

My wheel turns and 1 turn unendingly
Amid the wreck of souls to whom remain
No hope, no wish but one — the wish to die,
The longing of the dead to die again.
The sights I see would blast an earthly eye,
The horrors 1 hear no tongue may put in

words ;
And all around me roars the rage of gods —
Turning eternally in endless pain.

William Brian Hooker.



15



WOOSTER SQUARE

The sunshine yet on Wooster Square

Is bright as years and years ago;
The elms are taller, greener there:

But Fashion's favor changeth so!

The glooming Grecian portico,
The ancient, marred, much-trodden stair

Forgets the days of long-ago,
Forgets the days of Wooster Square.

The old white church in Wooster Square
Where godly people met and prayed —

Dear souls! they worship Mary there,
Italian mother, man and maid
In gaudy Southern scarfs arrayed;

The horrid candles smoulder where
The godly people met and prayed.

Alas! the fall of Wooster Square!

Before the war, in Wooster Square

The carriages, they went and came;
The common folk used wait and stare,

i6



WOOSTER SQUARE

They bowed to beauty and to Fame.

And then it ceased to be the same;
The doors are tarnished all and bare

Where shone each old .Colonial name
Departed now from Wooster Square.

Fashion, fled from Wooster Square â– 
And tripping fast up Prospect Hill

Where orioles flame through fragrant air,
Where daisies light the roadside still,
What was it changed your flighty will.

What fickle fancy made you care
To take the way of Prospect Hill,

To leave the walls of Wooster Square?

Be done, he done, with tiresome rhymes!
I go with Fortune and the Fair,

1 owe no love to bygone times —

Peace to the shades of IVooster Square!

Sidney N. Deane.



17



TO THE OLD LIBRARY

Our fathers drank of knowledge in thy halls,
And Time hath sanctified thy memory:
In reverential tones they speak of thee.
We too have learned to love thine ivied

walls,
We love each blessed ivy-leaf which falls ;
And think of those who planted long ago
The parent vine — of those who watched it

grow.
And still thy mantled dignity enthralls.
And in our hearts our love shall ever dwell,
Though unknown hands shall rend thee

stone from stone,
And though thy site with weeds be over-
grown.
May thy successor, newly risen the while,
Inspire our sons, and always serve as well
As thou hast served. Farewell, beloved pile!
Samuel N. Holliday.



18



THE IDEAL

Brother in hope, if you

Should ever pierce our empyrean through;

And find that radiant star,
Whose beams we have not seen, yet know
they are;

Say that I loved it, too,

But could not climb so far.

Allan Updegraff.



19



ARGALUS AND PARTHENIA

Scarce had the echoes of my bugle note
Died on the air, when down across the moat
The drawbridge clanged, the portal opened

wide.
And Kalander, the seneschal, 1 spied.
With men-at-arms drawn up in full array
To greet a friend, or keep a foe at bay.
Across 1 spurred, and hailed the varlet thus:
"Tell me, good fellow, of Lord Argalus;
Has he fared forth to join his liege, the King,
Or tarries he, to hear the news 1 bring
Of foes in field, and need of his strong

arm.
While love's sweet murmurs deafen war's

alarm?"
(God grant the day be long ere any bride
So damp my courage, or subdue my pride!)
"My lord's within, nor has he yet fared

forth
To war against the paynims in the North.
So do but follow to the ample bower

20



ARGALUS AND PARTHENIA

Where sits my lord, in yonder ivied tower,
And his sweet mistress bears him company."
"Then stay, good Kalander, and let me
see.
All unannounced, this fondly loving pair."
The tower I reached, and climbed the

winding stair;
Then paused before the doorway as I heard
A sweet-toned voice that rivaled any bird
Warbling its morning song in forest green.
The curtain gaped; I peered in on a scene
That seemed to me like Heaven come to

Earth,
A glimpse of Paradise before the hearth:
There sat Lord Argalus, with book on knee,
Reading the tale of Hercules; and she,
The fair Parthenia, gazing on his eyes,
Staying him oft with question or surmise;
To be resolved of doubt, far less, methought.
Than that it gave her joy when-e'er she

caught
His tender glance that flashed a message

sweet ;
Eye answered eye, and bliss was then com-
plete.

21



ARGALUS AND PARTHENIA

Warming a heart I'd long thought dead and

sere,
This picture slowly made its meaning clear:
He joyed in her; she in herself, from this:
She knew him hers; but more, that she was

his.
No want one knew but that it straight was

filled;
Nor was desire by satisfaction killed.
Each giving of his store, their riches grew;
One life with double strands they made of

two.

*******
Long stood I there; my eyes grew dim with

tears;
Too plain I saw the line of barren years
Devoid of love, with self the only goal:
Bitter regret and longing filled my soul;
And ere I entered to disturb their bliss
The burden of my throbbing heart was this:
"God grant the day come soon when such a

brtde
Fills me with courage and exalts my pride!"

Gerald B. Leicester.



22



PUCK, TO QUEEN MAB

Ods Pitkins, he who at rhymes is a dab
Never would dare write a verse to Queen

Mab.
The words would seem empty, the slow

meter wrong;
For she is herself an ethereal song.
A song? Nay; a chorus of cupids petite!
The soloist blushing, her rounded lips sweet.
A wonderful melody soundeth each cheek;
When pale, in a sad, solemn music they

speak.
But, Mab, only blush, and there tumbles

along
The jolliest, rollicking, frolicking song.

Harry S. Lewis.



23



ON SEEING THE WOODLAND
PLAYERS

Musing I sit with half closed eyes. The play
Is finished and the sound of clapping dies,
When, lo, before me sunny Arden lies.
Alluring bright, as on an olden day.
I hear her young voice, Rosalind the gay.
And I am young. I sigh for Jacques' sighs;
And now I laugh with Touchstone, and my

eyes
Are wet, with mirth or grief I cannot say.

And while I muse the wind that moves the

trees
Sings, sighs, and laughs in sympathy with

me.
How like the Poet is this vagrant breeze
That moves the trees to music wonder-
fully —
And now they laugh, now drink unto the lees
Of grief , and all in wondrous harmonv-

J. N. Greely.
24



TO BEN JONSON

'TwERE good, above a jovial cup,
Amongst the merry throng.

To hear thy great voice lifted up —
The laughter of thy song.

Thy fate, O Ben, was wondrous kind.

Thy fame has lasted long;
For still in musty books men fmd

The laughter of thy song.

J. N. Greely.



25



A BALLADE OF OTHER IDOLS

I

Hail! Astarte of far Phoenice,

Hail! O Dagon, the Shammothite,

HaiL' O Rulers of Golden Greece,

Splendid gods of the sun and the light —