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Soft
and
stung
softly
--
fairer
for
a
fleck
...
"
"
That
's
good
,
"
Kerry
would
say
softly
.
"
It
pleases
the
elder
Holiday
.
That
's
a
great
poet
,
I
guess
.
"
Tom
,
delighted
at
an
audience
,
would
ramble
through
the
"
Poems
and
Ballades
"
until
Kerry
and
Amory
knew
them
almost
as
well
as
he
.
Amory
took
to
writing
poetry
on
spring
afternoons
,
in
the
gardens
of
the
big
estates
near
Princeton
,
while
swans
made
effective
atmosphere
in
the
artificial
pools
,
and
slow
clouds
sailed
harmoniously
above
the
willows
.
May
came
too
soon
,
and
suddenly
unable
to
bear
walls
,
he
wandered
the
campus
at
all
hours
through
starlight
and
rain
.
A
DAMP
SYMBOLIC
INTERLUDE
The
night
mist
fell
.
From
the
moon
it
rolled
,
clustered
about
the
spires
and
towers
,
and
then
settled
below
them
,
so
that
the
dreaming
peaks
were
still
in
lofty
aspiration
toward
the
sky
.
Figures
that
dotted
the
day
like
ants
now
brushed
along
as
shadowy
ghosts
,
in
and
out
of
the
foreground
.
The
Gothic
halls
and
cloisters
were
infinitely
more
mysterious
as
they
loomed
suddenly
out
of
the
darkness
,
outlined
each
by
myriad
faint
squares
of
yellow
light
.
Indefinitely
from
somewhere
a
bell
boomed
the
quarter-hour
,
and
Amory
,
pausing
by
the
sun-dial
,
stretched
himself
out
full
length
on
the
damp
grass
.
The
cool
bathed
his
eyes
and
slowed
the
flight
of
time
--
time
that
had
crept
so
insidiously
through
the
lazy
April
afternoons
,
seemed
so
intangible
in
the
long
spring
twilights
.
Evening
after
evening
the
senior
singing
had
drifted
over
the
campus
in
melancholy
beauty
,
and
through
the
shell
of
his
undergraduate
consciousness
had
broken
a
deep
and
reverent
devotion
to
the
gray
walls
and
Gothic
peaks
and
all
they
symbolized
as
warehouses
of
dead
ages
.
The
tower
that
in
view
of
his
window
sprang
upward
,
grew
into
a
spire
,
yearning
higher
until
its
uppermost
tip
was
half
invisible
against
the
morning
skies
,
gave
him
the
first
sense
of
the
transiency
and
unimportance
of
the
campus
figures
except
as
holders
of
the
apostolic
succession
.
He
liked
knowing
that
Gothic
architecture
,
with
its
upward
trend
,
was
peculiarly
appropriate
to
universities
,
and
the
idea
became
personal
to
him
.
The
silent
stretches
of
green
,
the
quiet
halls
with
an
occasional
late-burning
scholastic
light
held
his
imagination
in
a
strong
grasp
,
and
the
chastity
of
the
spire
became
a
symbol
of
this
perception
.
"
Damn
it
all
,
"
he
whispered
aloud
,
wetting
his
hands
in
the
damp
and
running
them
through
his
hair
.
"
Next
year
I
work
!
"
Yet
he
knew
that
where
now
the
spirit
of
spires
and
towers
made
him
dreamily
acquiescent
,
it
would
then
overawe
him
.
Where
now
he
realized
only
his
own
inconsequence
,
effort
would
make
him
aware
of
his
own
impotency
and
insufficiency
.
The
college
dreamed
on
--
awake
.
He
felt
a
nervous
excitement
that
might
have
been
the
very
throb
of
its
slow
heart
.
It
was
a
stream
where
he
was
to
throw
a
stone
whose
faint
ripple
would
be
vanishing
almost
as
it
left
his
hand
.
As
yet
he
had
given
nothing
,
he
had
taken
nothing
.
A
belated
freshman
,
his
oilskin
slicker
rasping
loudly
,
slushed
along
the
soft
path
.
A
voice
from
somewhere
called
the
inevitable
formula
,
"
Stick
out
your
head
!
"
below
an
unseen
window
.
A
hundred
little
sounds
of
the
current
drifting
on
under
the
fog
pressed
in
finally
on
his
consciousness
.
