The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (best mobile ebook reader .txt) 📖
- Author: Percy Marks
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Ceased, Jack Collings Suggested: "Let'S Serenade Them. You Lead, Hugh."
Hugh Had A Sweet, Light Tenor Voice. It Was Not At All Remarkable, Just
Clear And True; But He Had Easily Made The Glee Club And Had An
Excellent Chance To Be Chosen Freshman Song-Leader.
Collings Had Brought A Guitar With Him. He Handed It To Hugh, Who, Like
Most Musical Undergraduates, Could Play Both A Guitar And A Banjo. "Sing
That 'I Arise From Dreams Of Thee' Thing That You Were Singing The Other
Night. We'Ll Hum."
Hugh Slipped The Cord Around His Neck, Tuned The Guitar, And Then
Thrummed A Few Opening Chords. His Heart Was Beating At Double Time; He
Was Very Happy: He Was Serenading Girls At A Fraternity Dance. Couples
Were Strolling Out Upon The Veranda, The Girls Throwing Warm Wraps Over
Their Shoulders, The Men Lighting Cigarettes And Tossing The Burnt
Matches On The Lawn. Their White Shirt-Fronts Gleamed Eerily In The Pale
Light Cast By The Japanese Lanterns With Which The Veranda Was Hung.
Hugh Began To Sing Shelley'S Passionate Lyric, Set So Well To Music By
Tod B. Galloway. His Mother Had Taught Him The Song, And He Loved It.
"I Arise From Dreams Of Thee
In The First Sweet Sleep Of Night,
When The Winds Are Breathing Low
And The Stars Are Shining Bright.
I Arise From Dreams Of Thee,
And A Spirit In My Feet
Hath Led Me--Who Knows How?
To Thy Chamber-Window, Sweet!"
Two Of The Boys, Who Had Heard Hugh Sing The Song Before, Hummed A Soft
Accompaniment. When He Began The Second Verse Several More Began To Hum;
They Had Caught The Melody. The Couples On The Veranda Moved Quietly To
The Porch Railing, Their Chatter Silent, Their Attention Focused On A
Group Of Dim Figures Standing In The Shadow Of An Elm. Hugh Was Singing
Well, Better Than He Ever Had Before. Neither He Nor HisBy Fatal Power,
The Limbs Which I Was Wont To Soothe In Passion'S Hour.
Xxxiv
But If She Should Be Lost In Happy Sleep,
Wait, Bear With Her, Grant Her But Three Hours' Grace,
And Thunder Not, O Cloud, But Let Her Keep
Chapter 7 Part 42The Dreaming Vision Of Her Lover'S Face--
Loose Not Too Soon The Imagined Knot Of That Embrace.
Xxxv
As Thou Wouldst Wake The Jasmine'S Budding Wonder,
Wake Her With Breezes Blowing Mistily;
Conceal Thy Lightnings, And With Words Of Thunder
Speak Boldly, Though She Answer Haughtily
With Eyes That Fasten On The Lattice And On Thee.
Xxxvi
_The Cloud Is Instructed How To Announce Himself_
"Thou Art No Widow; For Thy Husband'S Friend
Is Come To Tell Thee What Himself Did Say--
A Cloud With Low, Sweet Thunder-Tones That Send
All Weary Wanderers Hastening On Their Way,
Eager To Loose The Braids Of Wives That Lonely Stay."
Xxxvii
_In Such A Way As To Win The Favour Of His Auditor_.
Say This, And She Will Welcome Thee Indeed,
Sweet Friend, With A Yearning Heart'S Tumultuous Beating
And Joy-Uplifted Eyes; And She Will Heed
The After Message: Such A Friendly Greeting
Is Hardly Less To Woman'S Heart Than Lovers' Meeting.
Xxxviii
_The Message Itself_.
Thus Too, My King, I Pray Of Thee To Speak,
Remembering Kindness Is Its Own Reward;
"Thy Lover Lives, And From The Holy Peak
Asks If These Absent Days Good Health Afford--
Those Born To Pain Must Ever Use This Opening Word.
Xxxix
With Body Worn As Thine, With Pain As Deep,
With Tears And Ceaseless Longings Answering Thine,
With Sighs More Burning Than The Sighs That Keep
Thy Lips Ascorch--Doomed Far From Thee To Pine,
He Too Doth Weave The Fancies That Thy Soul Entwine.
Xl
He Used To Love, When Women Friends Were Near,
To Whisper Things He Might Have Said Aloud
That He Might Touch Thy Face And Kiss Thine Ear;
Unheard And Even Unseen, No Longer Proud,
He Now Must Send This Yearning Message By A Cloud.
Xli
Chapter 7 Part 43
_According To The Treatise Called "Virtues
Banner," A Lover Has Four Solaces In Separation:
First, Looking At Objects That Remind
Him Of Her He Loves_;
'I See Thy Limbs In Graceful-Creeping Vines,
Thy Glances In The Eyes Of Gentle Deer,
Thine Eyebrows In The Ripple'S Dancing Lines,
Thy Locks In Plumes, Thy Face In Moonlight Clear--
Ah, Jealous! But The Whole Sweet Image Is Not Here.
Xlii
_Second, Painting A Picture Of Her_;
And When I Paint That Loving Jealousy
With Chalk Upon The Rock, And My Caress
As At Thy Feet I Lie, I Cannot See
Through Tears That To Mine Eyes Unbidden Press--
So Stern A Fate Denies A Painted Happiness.
Xliii
_Third, Dreaming Of Her_;
And When I Toss Mine Arms To Clasp Thee Tight,
Mine Own Though But In Visions Of A Dream--
They Who Behold The Oft-Repeated Sight,
The Kind Divinities Of Wood And Stream,
Let Fall Great Pearly Tears That On The Blossoms Gleam.
Xliv
_Fourth, Touching Something Which She
Has Touched_.
Himalaya'S Breeze Blows Gently From The North,
Unsheathing Twigs Upon The Deodar
And Sweet With Sap That It Entices Forth--
I Embrace It Lovingly; It Came So Far,
Perhaps It Touched Thee First, My Life'S Unchanging Star!
Xlv
Oh, Might The Long, Long Night Seem Short To Me!
Oh, Might The Day His Hourly Tortures Hide!
Such Longings For The Things That Cannot Be,
Consume My Helpless Heart, Sweet-Glancing Bride,
In burning Agonies Of Absence From Thy Side.
Xlvi
_The Bride Is Besought Not To Lose Heart At
Hearing Of Her Lover'S Wretchedness_,
Yet Much Reflection, Dearest, Makes Me Strong,
Strong With An Inner Strength; Nor Shouldst Thou Feel
Chapter 7 Pg 44Despair At What Has Come To Us Of Wrong;
Who Has Unending Woe Or Lasting Weal?
Our Fates Move Up And Down Upon A Circling Wheel.
Xlvii
_And To Remember That The Curse Has Its
Appointed End, When The Rainy SAround
His Neck. "What A Wonderful, Wonderful Girl! Sweeter Than Helen--Lots
Sweeter.... She'S Like The Night--And Moonlight.... Like Moonlight
And--" The Music Of The "Indian Serenade" Began To Thrill Through His
Mind:
"I Arise From Dreams Of Thee
In The First Sweet Sleep Of Night....
Oh, She'S Sweet, Sweet--Like Music And Moonlight...." He Fell Asleep,
Repeating "Music And Moonlight" Over And Over Again--"Music And
Moonlight...."
The Morning Of The "Big Game" Proved Ideal, Crisp And Cold, Crystal
Clear. Indian Summer Was Near Its Close, But There Was Still Something
Of Its Dreamy Wonder In The Air, And The Hills Still Flamed With
Glorious Autumn Foliage. The Purples, The Mauves, The Scarlets, The
Burnt Oranges Were A Little Dimmed, A Little Less Brilliant--The Leaves
Were Rustling Dryly Now--But There Was Beauty In dying Autumn, Its
Splendor Slowly Fading, As There Was In Its First Startling Burst Of
Color.
Classes That Saturday Morning Were A Farce, But They Were Held; The
Administration, Which The Boys Damned Heartily, Insisted Upon It. Some
Of The Instructors Merely Took The Roll And Dismissed Their Classes,
Feeling That Honor Had Been Satisfied; But Others Held Their Classes
Through The Hour, Lecturing The Disgusted Students On Their Lack Of
Interest, Warning Them That Examinations Weren'T As Far Off As The
Millennium.
Hugh Felt That He Was Lucky; He Had Only One Class--It Was With Alling
In Latin--And It Had Been Promptly Dismissed. "When The Day Comes," Said
Alling, "That Latin Can Compete With Football, I'Ll--Well, I'Ll Probably
Get A Living Wage. You Had Better Go Before I Get To Talking About A
Living Wage. It Is One Of My Favorite Topics." He Waved His Hand Toward
The Door; The Boys Roared With Delight And Rushed Out Of The Room,
Shoving Each Other And Laughing. They Ran Out Of The Building; All Of
Them Were Too Excited To Walk.
By Half-Past One The Stands Were Filled. Most Of The Girls Wore Fur
Coats, As Did Many Of The Alumni, But The Students Sported No Such
Luxuries; Nine Tenths Of Them Wore "Baa-Baa Coats," Gray Jackets Lined
Chapter 7 Pg 45With Sheep'S Wool. Except For An Occasional Banner, Usually Carried By A
Girl, And The Bright Hats Of The Women, There Was Little Color To The
Scene. The Air Was Sharp, And The Spectators Huddled Down Into Their
Warm Coats.
The Rival Cheering Sections, Seated On Opposite Sides Of The Field,
Alternated In cheering And Singing, Each Applauding The Other'S Efforts.
The Cheering Wasn'T Very Good, And The Singing Was Worse; But There Was
A Great Deal Of Noise, And That Was About All That Mattered To Either
Side.
A Few Minutes Before Two, The Raleigh Team Ran Upon The Field. The
Raleigh Cheering Section Promptly Went Mad. When The Sanford Team
Appeared A Minute Later, The Sanford Cheering Section Tried Its Best To
Go Madder, The Boys Whistling And Yelling Like Possessed Demons. Wayne
Gifford Brought Them To Attention By Holding His Hands Above His Head.
He Called For The Usual Regular Cheer For The Team And Then For A Short
Cheer For Each Member Of It, Starting With The Captain, Sherman
Walford, And Ending With The Great Half-Back, Harry Slade.
Suddenly There Was Silence. The Toss-Up Had Been Completed; The Teams
Were In Position On The Field. Slade Had Finished Building A Slender
Pyramid Of Mud, On Which He Had Balanced The Ball. The Referee Held Up
His Hand. "Are You Ready, Sanford?" Walford Signaled His Readiness. "Are
You Ready, Raleigh?"
The Shrill Blast Of The Referee'S Whistle--And The Game
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