Our college rhymes,--how light they seem,
Like little ghosts of love's young dream
That led our boyish hearts away
From lectures and from books, to stray
By flowery mead and flowing stream!
There's nothing here, in form or theme,
Of thought sublime or art supreme:
We would not have the critic weigh
Our college rhymes.
Yet if, perchance, a slender beam
Of feeling's glow or fancy's gleam
Still lingers in the lines we lay
At Alma Mater's feet today,
The touch of Nature may redeem
Our college rhymes.
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I guess living a life making rhyme is better than living a life making crime. Some fan must have submitted poem in 2003,70 years after Hank died. bri ;) thanks.
'Henry Van Dyke, (born November 10,1852, Germantown, Pennsylvania, U.S.—died April 10,1933
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well constructed rondeau...