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Undergraduate Literary Exercises in Sanders Theatre.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

Of fierce New England winters now have gone,

The stream grows hoar with time and yet its flow

Is still as young as on its birthday's dawn,

As young as youth eternal, a fountain still

Of youth, new and fresh, yesterday, to-day,

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To-morrow, flowing, changing at its will,

Though men sometime its course would turn or stay

Still with the nation's life it makes its way.

Our stream to-day its narrow banks o'er-flows.

Deserted ruins on its course appear

That tell where once the towers of temples rose;

And yet its waters still are fresh and clear

With purity, and savor of the spring

Rock born, and of the forest-flowing rill:

And still those youths are here who first did bring

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