1931 Cedrus Yearbook

:11 C E D R U S Queen thy beauty is to me Like those Nicaean barks of yore, That gently o'er a perfumed sea, Thy weary wayworn wanderers bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam Thy hyacent hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs, have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo! on yon brilliant throne How statue-like I see thee stand, The Agate lamp within thy hand Oh! Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land! Eighty-four