 | [Ad Grahamum abeuntem, in] James Lorimer Graham, Jr. January 17th, 1894 |  |
37
AD GRAHAMUM ABEUNTEM.
Take, France, from whom we take so much
Of wisdom and of folly,
Take that which shall reward your clutch
And leave us melancholy!
Receive within your sunniest part,
Where life's ripe fruitage mellows,
This comrade boon of Song and Art
And peer of all Good Fellows.
Of wisdom and of folly,
Take that which shall reward your clutch
And leave us melancholy!
Receive within your sunniest part,
Where life's ripe fruitage mellows,
This comrade boon of Song and Art
And peer of all Good Fellows.
38
Though at your envious bidding led
To leave us here regretful,
Your beauty cannot turn his head
Nor make his heart forgetful;
So, mind, we'd have you kindly treat,
Fair France, the lad we lend you,
And may he find your service sweet,
And may his love befriend you!
To leave us here regretful,
Your beauty cannot turn his head
Nor make his heart forgetful;
So, mind, we'd have you kindly treat,
Fair France, the lad we lend you,
And may he find your service sweet,
And may his love befriend you!
Our wits grow warmer for your wine,
But henceforth some could spare it,
While he's with you across the brine—
Not here with us to share it;
See how the painters hang their heads,
The poets all are sorry,
And long to-night they'll shun their beds—
So loth to lose their Lorry.
But henceforth some could spare it,
While he's with you across the brine—
Not here with us to share it;
See how the painters hang their heads,
The poets all are sorry,
And long to-night they'll shun their beds—
So loth to lose their Lorry.
Alack! the years will run their race,
And we are waxing grayer,
But he shall have, in every place,
Our benison and prayer:
He'll be our toast in this good land,
We'll be his posset yonder:
No seas, that loosen hand from hand,
Shall keep our souls asunder.
And we are waxing grayer,
But he shall have, in every place,
Our benison and prayer:
He'll be our toast in this good land,
We'll be his posset yonder:
No seas, that loosen hand from hand,
Shall keep our souls asunder.
But how the red, red wine shall pour,
And how the wit shall waken,
When, back from sunny France, once more
He claims his seat forsaken!
The word shall flit from mouth to mouth,
And every one I name me
Shall bring, from North or East or South,
His “Welcome Hame to Jamie!”
And how the wit shall waken,
When, back from sunny France, once more
He claims his seat forsaken!
The word shall flit from mouth to mouth,
And every one I name me
Shall bring, from North or East or South,
His “Welcome Hame to Jamie!”
39
Then Barker's handsome face will shine,
And Kensett's eyes will glisten,
And Lang shall sing our “Auld Lang Syne,”
And Gray the punch shall christen;
Venetian Cranch again shall chant
The fate of “Little Billee,”
Perennial Stansbury descant
Upon his latest filly;
And Kensett's eyes will glisten,
And Lang shall sing our “Auld Lang Syne,”
And Gray the punch shall christen;
Venetian Cranch again shall chant
The fate of “Little Billee,”
Perennial Stansbury descant
Upon his latest filly;
And Bowles “Across the Continent”
Shall haste to share our glory,
And Barstow, ere the night be spent,
Shall tell his hundredth story;
While Mitchell from his Sabine Farm
Will gently glide atween us,
With Virgil yet beneath his arm,
To greet returned Mæcenas;
Shall haste to share our glory,
And Barstow, ere the night be spent,
Shall tell his hundredth story;
While Mitchell from his Sabine Farm
Will gently glide atween us,
With Virgil yet beneath his arm,
To greet returned Mæcenas;
And Bond shall bind again, as now,
Our circle-ends together,
And smooth his broad, judicial brow,
And make it sunny weather;
Bierstadt will leave his artist-throne
Among the Hudson breezes,
And Hunt and Thompson, famous grown,
Their architraves and friezes;
Our circle-ends together,
And smooth his broad, judicial brow,
And make it sunny weather;
Bierstadt will leave his artist-throne
Among the Hudson breezes,
And Hunt and Thompson, famous grown,
Their architraves and friezes;
And Boker's laurelled head will loom
In mediæval splendor,
While Taylor's muse shall hush the room,
And Stoddard's true and tender:
Methinks the draughts they'll swallow up
Will strain each swollen kidney,
While Curtis won't refuse his cup—
For once unlike his Sidney.
In mediæval splendor,
While Taylor's muse shall hush the room,
And Stoddard's true and tender:
Methinks the draughts they'll swallow up
Will strain each swollen kidney,
While Curtis won't refuse his cup—
For once unlike his Sidney.
40
There's courtly Blodgett will be here
And Fisk will share our rations,
And Dodge—I hold his virtues dear
As though we wern't relations!
And, if to send a greeting back
To France our hearts desire,
Undaunted Field we shall not lack
Nor Field's immortal wire.
And Fisk will share our rations,
And Dodge—I hold his virtues dear
As though we wern't relations!
And, if to send a greeting back
To France our hearts desire,
Undaunted Field we shall not lack
Nor Field's immortal wire.
Even thus may Heaven keep us all,
Each young and elder brother,
Through weal and woe—whate'er befall—
To make this night another!
And should Fate clip his dull career
Who reads these wanton numbers,
Be sure his spirit's with you here
Altho' his body slumbers.
Each young and elder brother,
Through weal and woe—whate'er befall—
To make this night another!
And should Fate clip his dull career
Who reads these wanton numbers,
Be sure his spirit's with you here
Altho' his body slumbers.
Then gently, France, receive your guest;
Bright be your ways before him,
And to these portals of the West
In his own time restore him.
Free float the ship, with no rude gales,
No evil sprites retarding—
But favoring zephyrs fill her sails,
With all good angels guarding!
Bright be your ways before him,
And to these portals of the West
In his own time restore him.
Free float the ship, with no rude gales,
No evil sprites retarding—
But favoring zephyrs fill her sails,
With all good angels guarding!
| [Ad Grahamum abeuntem, in] James Lorimer Graham, Jr. January 17th, 1894 | |