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Excerpt from Sunday Evenings in the College Chapel: Sermons to Young Men
To C. W. E.
Severest critic, best of listeners,
Questioning all things with perennial youth,
Quick to detect when faulty logic errs,
Yet quicker to discern each note of truth;
Men call you unimpassioned, cold, and stern,
The last survivor of the Puritan,
They little know the sympathies that burn
For every worthy cause or troubled man.
Straight to its mark your candid counsel flies,
Its shaft of judgment tipped with kind desire,
And those it pierces still unwounded rise,
Chastened but strong, and purified by fire.
Along the coast where we have lived together,
There comes at evening-time, in summer weather,
A hush of Nature, when the sighing firs
Cease their complaining, and no land-breeze stirs
The drowsy ocean; while the burnished bay
Mirrors the splendor of the dying day.
So, After many And Tempestuous Years,
And many an angry gale of doubts and fears,
The hostile breezes slacken and then cease;
The harbor-lights are lit, of love and peace;
And life's calm evening settles over you
As sunset gathers over Asticou.
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