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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845, By Charles T. Brooks, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
Boston, August 29, 1845.
In behalf of your classmates — as mauy of them as it was possible to consult—we ask of you, dear Brooks, the favor of a copy of your recent Poem for publication. The request comes fitly from your old associates and constant friends; and we feel confident that in making it we are sustained by the public voice.
How near to us you were in college life, proofs without number were given. Be now assured that after thirteen years of separation we feel to you as ever; and allow us to accept the beautiful allusions at the close of your Poem as a welcome token of your affectionate remembrance of your classmates and the years we passed so happily together at Cambridge.
With our best wishes for your welfare we remain ever faithfully your friends,
Samuel Osgood 3 In bek(dfof the
George T. Curtis, \ „, •>-J „ William C. Appleton, S Class°J 1832Rev. Charles T. Brooks.
Newport, R. I., September 5, 1845. Brothehs, — I gladly and gratefully give you the manuscript of my Poem, having been led to hope that the pleasure, and perhaps profit, with which it is read, will not fall very far short of the patience with which it was heard.
It will be found that, here and there, a passage or paragraph was omitted in speaking.
Reciprocating, with feelings which I can neither express nor repress, every kind remembrance and ,wish of your note, and cherishing similar sentiments towards all our classmates, I shall always be, in the bonds of friendship and of scholarship,
Theirs and yours,
Charles T. Brooks.
Rev. Samuel Osgood,
Old Harvard ! Mother Harvard! Hail! —Once more The pilgrim's foot is on his native shore. Baffled by adverse fates — too long kept back, Calm-bound or storm-tost, on his homeward track — Heart-sick with hope deferred, day after day Nearing the coast — then drifting far away,— He vainly hovered, or at anchor lay, Till — hark! a startling, thrilling cry of " land!" And lo! beneath his bow the well-known strand, Uprising from the fresh and gleamy sea, Looms through the haze of morn and memory; And leaning, pensive, o'er the bulwarks, now He feels the air that fanned his boyish brow; And now he disembarks, and quickly sees, By the bright spire that overtops the trees,