Poem for opening day

Auspicious day! That opens aide the door of this great benefaction in the name of a young blameless soul with noble aim

To plume and bid the wing of Genius Soar!

Here is no institution old and hoar By time perfected and made known to Fame But from parental bearing hearts it came

Like a fresh fountain blessings to outpour

For here is freely given to every youth from the rich neutral slore of many a Sage Share of their garnered wealth ripe fruits of thought

From cultured fields and seeds of moral truth To bloom in beauty for a later age When men shall bless the good this gift has [arought?]

Johanne M [Samdars?]

TO LELAND AND JANE LATHROP STANFORD, PHILANTHROPISTS.

----o0o----

I.

To the heedless world on-rushing, In the giddying dance of death, To all the bitter places Where the toiler travaileth, Your lips have sent the word of life-- A kingly truth and good, The only truth that can save the race, The truth of Brotherhood.

II.

Out of your own great sorrow, A beautiful truth arose-- How to ease the sorrows of others, How to still the earthly woes. Oh, the peace of God is precious, But the seeker for His grace, Must labor down the shadowed ways, To lift the fallen race.

III.

Touched with the heavenly spirit You would lift the lowley up And from their lips with kindly hands Remove fell Sorrow's cup. No more in mortal battle Must the days of man be spent For the star of a Devine Commune Into the World is sent.

IV. Grand Souls you are not understood By the hungry clamoring clan That name themselves the sons of God Yet rob the fellow man. Your purpose vast to build for God Is to the earth-bound slave A darker well of mystery Than Egypt's ancient grave.

V. O Standfords! all the sons of Time Honor the lofty soul The putteth selfhood under foot And liveth for the Whole. They honor too the inrepid heart Alive with a mighty plan To throw another light on earth And lift the fellow man.

VI. Like steady sweeping planets Through the endless depths of thought Move on 0 Souls on the upward way Till the mighty work is wrought; And your life's fair orb when it is gone-Gone from the busy mast Will leave behind for monument A memory in the heart.