News
Garber Privately Tells Faculty That Harvard Must Rethink Messaging After GOP Victory
News
Cambridge Assistant City Manager to Lead Harvard’s Campus Planning
News
Despite Defunding Threats, Harvard President Praises Former Student Tapped by Trump to Lead NIH
News
Person Found Dead in Allston Apartment After Hours-Long Barricade
News
‘I Am Really Sorry’: Khurana Apologizes for International Student Winter Housing Denials
THE waves in kisses tell the shore
Their hopes and fears;
To cheer the wild and shrinking flower
The morn has tears;
The wind at eve e'er chants its plaint
To cypress groves;
To waving pines, in murmurs faint,
Sorrow the doves.
To swelling tides, when night's dark veil
Frees earth from care,
The moon relates what renders pale
Her cheek so fair.
To heaven Sainte Sophie's domes of white
Their anthems raise;
The heavens musing e'er recite
To God their praise.
All, tree or tomb, - all, dove or rose,
And wave or stone,
Have that to which they may disclose
The thoughts they own.
To me alone naught gives reply,
Alone I want
All answer but thy mournful cry,
Drear Hellespont.
Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.