TS 
 
 Alden 
 Consolation 
 
 I >
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mrs. John E. Goodwin
 
 CONSOLATIO 
 
 A MEMORIAL ODE
 
 C ONSOLATIO 
 
 Ode in memory of those members of 
 the Class of Nineteen Hundred and 
 Three of Stanford University who died 
 during the month of their graduation 
 
 BY 
 
 RAYMOND MACDONALD ALDEN 
 
 Vir sapiens laetus ex his tenebris 
 in lucem illam excesserit .... 
 Quo cum venerimus, turn denique vivemus. 
 
 CICERO. 
 
 Paul Elder and Company 
 Publishers, San Francisco
 
 Copyright, 1903 
 by Paul Elder and Company 
 
 Th Tomoy* Press 
 San Francisco
 
 This Ode was read at the Annual Commencement of 
 the University, May 25, 1903, and is published at the 
 request of certain of the graduates and their friends.
 
 I. 
 
 vernal hills bend close, 
 in friendly mass, 
 
 And Nature warmly 
 
 smiles 
 Where golden poppies glow 
 
 among the wheat, 
 And broadcast blossoms 
 
 mark the advancing feet 
 Of Summer s dauntless legions, as they pass 
 The valley s welcoming miles. 
 The earth keeps holiday, 
 And they that lean to listen hear her say: 
 All who are young, rejoice today with me! 
 Break forth in singing, each in his degree! 
 But chiefly you for whom, 
 While all the world makes room, 
 Your Mother lifts her gates in high solemnity.
 
 II. 
 
 UT ah, she waits; and why 
 Is sober youth s reply 
 Delayed, while doubts op 
 press 
 
 His natural eagerness? 
 Why does the pageant, at 
 
 the gate 
 Where myriad hopes and 
 
 longings wait, 
 
 Pause, as though stricken by some shatter- 
 ing fate? 
 
 While some, in mute distress, 
 Look to and fro, as for a comrade s face, 
 When none is marching in his vacant place.
 
 III. 
 
 E saw the fair young Mother 
 
 of the throng 
 Standing to bless them, and 
 
 to hear their song 
 Of tender parting, ere they 
 
 broke away, 
 With mingled tearful smiles 
 
 and smiling tears 
 Greeting their free new day; 
 It was but yestermorn, men say, 
 And yet to her already it seemeth years. 
 For while she waited, smiling, in her hand 
 The keys of the tomorrows, which she gave 
 Her children, bidding them through all the 
 
 land 
 Go forth, and open, conquer, and be brave, 
 
 There came a shadowing wing 
 That rose from out the underworld of Death, 
 The taint of nightshade on its hated breath, 
 And swept the withered leaves of Autumn 
 into Spring. 
 
 And when its presence passed, 
 Lo, of her children there were some whose 
 
 place 
 
 Was empty, and the smile upon her face 
 Was frozen in the winter of that blast.
 
 IV. 
 
 ,O stands she, pale and still, 
 With the mist yet o er her 
 
 eyes, 
 And the tremulous surprise 
 
 Of her grlef havin its win 
 With the drifting of her 
 
 hair. 
 
 Young, loving, tender, fair, 
 Now will she take her other children home 
 Closer to the warm beating of her heart; 
 Yet from the folded flock her yearnings roam 
 To them who go for evermore apart.
 
 V. 
 
 NE sacred place, the central 
 
 shrine of all 
 Her joys and sorrows, now 
 
 at length hath grown 
 Complete, since under 
 
 "lidLfWIl Her thousand sons and 
 daughters, at her call 
 
 And that of Death, have come to mourn as 
 
 one, 
 
 One heart that common griefs and fears have 
 made. 
 
 Here they had sung and prayed, 
 Here worshiped, in the shade 
 Of cloistered aisle and roof of storied stone ; 
 Here rolled the organ s solemn voice, 
 Now whispered "Hush!" now cried "Re 
 joice!" 
 
 Here youth and love had plighted troth, 
 While seraphs leaned and smiled on both ; 
 Here crimson-tinted sunlight, reverent, kissed 
 The altar of the holy Eucharist. 
 
 But one thing still was missed, 
 Sorrow, to fully consecrate the shrine 
 Of love and pity and of hope divine. 
 Now, in the mystic presence of our dead, 
 It hath been perfected.
 
 VI. 
 
 UT they ! O they were young, 
 and hoped so much! 
 The brow of youth 
 
 was bright 
 With dew that shimmered 
 
 in the morning light 
 Of promises and prophecies, 
 
 e en such 
 As none had dared to dream in earlier day. 
 
 And in this time of May, 
 One looking in the deeps of their young eyes 
 Caught embryo glimpses of their coming 
 strength 
 
 Shadows of great emprise, 
 And ghostly continents they should explore; 
 New Darien peaks whereon to stand at 
 length, 
 
 Masters of untold lore. 
 And softer lights foretold the dreams 
 Of the sweet pangs of love, that sometimes 
 
 seems 
 The dearest hope which all this weary world 
 
 redeems. 
 O heart of heaven ! must now this bourgeon 
 
 bloom, 
 
 Blotting its happy future from our sight, 
 Out from the Spring s illimitable light, 
 Fade in the dateless empire of the tomb ?
 
 VII. 
 
 k O! saith our heart; ah, no! 
 Their life fadeth not so. 
 Here on the brink they 
 
 stood 
 Of all that is great and 
 
 good; 
 They lived for the coming 
 
 hope: 
 
 Their future hath caught them up. 
 Love and the world before them 
 Infinite kingdoms o er them 
 They sooner found than we the path 
 To that their coming empire hath, 
 Borne from us all in love and not in wrath. 
 The continents that swam before their eyes 
 In the young conqueror s vision, 
 Unfold in realms elysian, 
 And peerless unsealed peaks rise ever in 
 their skies. 
 
 Dropping our humbler keys, 
 They open great tomorrows of the spirit, 
 And evermore magnificently inherit 
 The golden doors of nobler mysteries. 
 Through vaulted cloisters of new wisdom led 
 By masters such as freer creatures merit 
 
 (Great souls of ages dead), 
 Their life and lore increase, which here have 
 vanished.
 
 VIII. 
 
 while our Mother spreads 
 
 her gates apart 
 
 For those who enter bound- 
 less life today, 
 
 She cries "All hail!" to speed 
 them on their way, 
 "All hail !" and then - 
 
 "Farewell!" 
 And in the secret chambers of her heart 
 There echoes low the same farewell and hail 
 For those who in the life immortal dwell. 
 She bids them forward go, 
 Limitless lands explore, 
 Calls sweetly to them: "Still my children, 
 
 though 
 
 I see your upturned faces here no more!" 
 And unto us: "Be strong! 
 God s years are sure and long. 
 There is time enough and room enough for 
 
 all 
 
 The work and all the sorrow neath the sun ; 
 Do well today: today is never done: 
 If one world fail, another answereth your 
 call."
 
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