University of Virginia Library

On Agronomy

A. K. Davis

For those of you who have not been here
for more than two years, and might therefore
find the verses above a bit irrelevant to the
University as you know it, Mr. Davis' poem
refers to the area between Cabell Hall and the
Rotunda, which is generally referred to as the
Lawn, because there used to be grass there,
which was green and pretty to look at. It
made you feel like a scholar just to walk down
the Lawn to class. Years ago, people even
understood how Mr. Davis might be moved to
write such an ode.

And that's not all. The area between West
Range and Newcomb Hall was once a broad
green that even made the library look
appealing in the spring twilight. It used to
have a border of trees along Range that lent a
mellow flavor to the entire scene. Some of the
old-timers around the Grounds can even tell
you about the days when it was safe to walk
to class because there weren't any ditches
scarring the landscape. Amazing as it seems
now, the beauty of the Grounds used to instill
a kind of sub-conscious feeling of serenity and
well-being, qualities that are decisively absent
on today's Grounds. All in the name of
progress, we suppose.

Is there any hope at all? Or will an entire
generation of students remain ignorant of the
esthetic wonders that traditionally comprise a
large portion of the University's unique
mystique? Buildings and Grounds, to some
degree the victim of circumstances, assures us
that the Lawn, freed of the natural calamities
that have plagued it in past years, will soon be
green again. Eventually, the pipeline, or
whatever it is they're digging over there, will
be finished and covered over. The Bermuda
grass will rise and crowd out the weeds in
front of the library Hopefully.