Page 28 - 1917 May - To Dragma
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238 TO DRAG MA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI                                             TO DRAGMA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI  239

letters and telegrams f r o m the various chapters and officers, in the        THE QUIET CORNER
roses sent us by t h o u g h t f u l Sigma Chi's i n town, and i n the wishes
and flowers of the local groups and faculty members.                           O I've fitted up a quiet place in the corner of my heart!                                                                                                 it1
                                                                               Its four walls are of friendship and for you it's set apart.
    Our banquet was held at the Bozeman Hotel immediately f o l l o w i n g    There's a hearth-fire lighted in it, glowing bright as bright can be,
installation. N o w the Bozeman is assuredly not the W a l d o r f or the      Now won't you stay awhile each day, and just be glad with me?
Copley Plaza, but what cared we when we sat d o w n to tables strewn
w i t h red roses? Because A l p h a P h i is also Nu Gamma to M r s .                                                                                                                                                                -
Schoppe and me, we had ordered the menu of Gamma's installation
banquet, and though I am sure no one knew what she ate at a l l on                T o the poem given just below there has come i n these last days
account of happiness, the association pleased us.                              an added significance. What American is there who does not now
                                                                               read this and Rupert Brooke's companion poem, " I f I should die,"
T h e toasts were splendid, especially so since many of them were              with a deeper, more personal thought?

quite impromptu. Some day when there is more money i n the editorial                                           A RENDEZVOUS WITH DEATH

treasury, and space permits, the one given by H e l e n Rose o n " T h e                              B Y A L A N S E E G E R , in the North American Review

Ruby" and M a r y Danielson's "Response" to the "Welcome" are to be               (The author was killed in battle last July in northern France.)

published i n T o D R A G M A . T h e n to the singing of Dear  Alpha,         I have a rendezvous with Death
                                                                               At some disputed barricade,
we gather in friendship tonight, and 0 Alpha O, O Alpha O, since               When Spring comes round with rustling shade,
                                                                               And apple-blossoms fill the air.
•we all love but thee, the installation banquet of A l p h a P h i Chapter     I have a rendezvous with Death
                                                                               When Spring brings back blue days and fair.
came to an end.
                                                                                                         It may be he shall take my hand
   A t the last moment we heard of the victory i n basketball by Mon-                                   And lead me into his dark land
tana over Utah. The last glimpse which the Installing Officer caught                                    And close my eyes and quench my breath;
of her new sisters was a "Luggage Lugged" transfer wagon (the only                                       It may be I shall pass him still.
vehicle procurable on short notice) piled high w i t h what had become                                   I have a rendezvous with Death.
very precious freight on its way to the campus to celebrate the winning                                 On some scarred slope of battered hill,
of the Utah game.                                                                                       When Spring comes round again this year
                                                                                                        And the first meadow flowers appear.
                 M A R Y E . C H A S E , Gamma.
                                                                                                                                  God knows 'twere better to be deep
                 Installing                                     Officer.                                                          Pillowed in silk and scented down.
                                                                                                                                  Where love throbs out in blissful sleep.
                                                                                                                                  Pulse nigh to pulse and breath to breath,
                                                                                                                                  Where hushed awakenings are dear.
                                                                                                                                  Hut I've a rendezvous with Death
                                                                                                                                  At midnight in some flaming town,
                                                                                                                                  When Spring trips north again this year.
                                                                                                                                  And I to my pledged word am true,
                                                                                                                                  I shall not fail that rendezvous!

                                                                                  T h i s is f o r next summer when you lie beneath them

                                                                                                                                      TREES
                                                                                                        I think that I shall never see
                                                                                                        A poem lovely as a tree;

                                                                                                        A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
                                                                                                        Against the earth's sweet-flowing breast.
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