We went to school, my dear old books and I—

Full twenty years ago, and miles away—

True, trusted friends from morn till twilight gray:

I held them dear, and could not put them by

When other work came in my strength to try;

Like blocks with which the child first learns to play,

I wanted them in sight both night and day.

Oft in my dreams with book in hand would I,

Unfettered, walk the longed-for upward way—

The pleasant path that leads up Science Hill;

But waking, knew for me it might not be;

God’s way is best, I truly tried to say,

When lo! a hand, a token of his will,

And on the outstretched hand I read, C. L. S. C.!