i>Vi:&:«A .si=>i-;^-. :-r vl &&fc m W?M m m$$ ■4» SrC: >*? bww &* :1'^-:U^. £&$■$&$ ••^■;*-.~:&v^ '##<$*»£::'■■■.«; *■ •i^j^, ,'.h'.-"\ • ■ /•';'■ ■•f ''^'if^vv'' '''"•■' ■■•"■■ "AWt' WZ 350 qH752L 1892 57430710R minimi NLM 053055^ d N*TION»( UMARV OF MEDICINE WZ 350 U151L 0 1891 Lines by Oliver Wendell Holmes on the presentation of his portrait to the Philadelphia College of Physicians Saturday, April 30th 1892 £ ( | low came I here ? " The portrait thus might speak, H The crimson mantling in its canvas cheek, " Here in this concourse of the wise and grave Who look upon me with inquiring eyes, As on some homeless wanderer, caught astray ? An error loci, Boerhaave would say. Is this great hive of industry my home ? Where is the Common ? Where my gilded dome ? Where the Old South ? The frog pond ? Most of all, My sacred temple, Freedom's Faneuil Hall ? " No answer comes ; no trick of human art Can force those fixed, unmoving lips apart. He whom the picture shadows must explain This lawless inroad on a strange domain. Were it my votive offering, meant to show My grateful sense of all the debts I owe , To your fair city, its unlooked for face Might find no caviler to dispute its place. Yet though the friendly offering is not mine It bears my benediction to the shrine Where, if it meets a welcome, longer yet .';' Will stretch the column which displays my debt. Friends of my earlier manhood, ever dear, Whose lives, whose labors all were centred here How bright each figure stands before me now With eyes undimmed and fair unwrinkled brow, As when, with life before us yet untried, We walked the " Latin Quarter " side by side Through halls of death, through palaces of pain That cast their shadows on the turbid Seine. When o'er our coffee, at the old " Procope," Smiling, we cast each other's horoscope, Daring the future's dubious path to scan, Gerhard, your Gerhard was the coming man. Strong-brained, strong-willed, inquiring, patient, wise, He looked on truth through achromatic eyes; Sure to succeed, for Nature, like a maid, Loves best the lovers who are not afraid, ^ £ > s^ Lends them her hand to lead them where they please, (^ And trusts them boldly with her master-keys. r^ Behold, unfading on the rolls of fame Typhus and Typhoid stamped with Gerhard's name. Look on the stately form at Gerhard's side He too shall live to be his city's pride. Tall, manly, quiet, grave, but not austere. Not slow of wit, a little dull of ear, Him we predestined to the place he won,— Norris, the Quaker City's noble son. Armed with the skill that science renders sure His look, his touch, were half his patients' cure ; What need his merits I should further tell ? His record stands ; your pages know it well. Still wandering, lonely, mid the funeral urns To one loved name my saddening thought returns Less to the many known, but to the few A precious memory,—Stewardson, to you. Through many a league we two together fared, The traveller's comforts and discomforts shared, When hills and valleys parted distant towns, Long ere the railway smoothed their ups and downs. In all the trials wearing days could bring No fretful utterance ever left its sting Pity it was that, chased by pallid fears, He walked in shadow through his morning years, Talked of his early doom, and then, and then Lived on, and on, past threescore years and ten. Too shy, perhaps too timid, for success He fought life's battle bravely not the less, Others left prouder memories, none more dear, For those a sigh, for Stewardson a tear! Well, years rolled on, we went our several ways Not unrewarded with our need of praise; Time took the weight and measure of our brains Set us our tasks and paid us for our pains At length (our side-locks fast were turning gray) He brought our art that all-important day J9^^/ When here our ^Esculapian Congress met (Its second gathering, you will not forget). I with the crowd your far-famed city sought, Pleased to behold the schools where Rush had taught, Where Wistar labored and where Horner led His thirsting flock to Surgery's fountain-head. What kindly welcome with the rest I shared; A little pleased—perhaps a little scared, When Chapman hugged me in his huge embrace With praise that lit a bonfire in my face— When Francis, guest at MitcheWs generous board, My humble name across the table roared, Coupled with one which figures on the roll Of England's poets—bless his worthy soul! Garth—good Sir Samuel, whose poetic spark Scarce seen by day, still glimmers in the dark. These flitting phantoms of the past survive, While grateful Memory keeps her fires alive. Friends of the days that fear and anguish knew, My heart records a deeper debt to you. To this kind refuge, hallowed evermore, Her shattered sufferers fond affection bore. Full many a father tracked his bleeding son Fresh from the murderous conflict, lost or won, Strayed through some quiet ward, and looking round, In pity's sheltering arms the lost was found. Enough ! Enough ! these eyes will overflow In sweet remembrance of the debt I owe— A debt 'twould bankrupt gratitude to pay— But Heaven perhaps will hear me when I pray: Peace to your borders! Long may Science reign Supreme, unchallenged o'er her old domain ! While sons as worthy as their sires of old Her borrowed sceptre still unbroken hold Till a new Rush arise who dares to think— An unborn Leidy finds the missing link. Oliver Wendell Holmes. Boston, April 28, 1892. Lines by Oliver Wendell Holmes on the presentation of his portrait to the Philadelphia College of Physicians. ■ LUTES by OLIVER WEITDALL HOLIJES on the presentation of his portrait to the PHILADELPHIA COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS. Saturday, April 30th, 1892. "How came I here?" The portrait thus might speak, The crimson mantling in its canvas cheek, "Here in this concourse of the wise and grave V.'ho look upon me with inquiring eyes, As on some homeless wanderer, caught astray? An error loci, Boerhaave would say. Is this great hive of industry my home? Where is the Common? rhere my gilded dome? wliere the Old South? The frog pond? Host of all, I.ly sacred temple, Freedom's Faneuil Hall? Ho answer comes; no trick of human art Can force those fixed, unmoving lips apart, He whom the picture shadows must explain This lawless inroad on a strange domain. Shere is pn_ votive offering, meant to show Ky grateful sense of all the debts I owe To your fair city, its unlooPed for face Plight find no caviler to dispute its place. Yet though the friendly offering is not nine It bears my benediction to the shrine "There, if it meets a weloome, longer yet Will stretch the column which displays my debt. Friends of my earlier manhood, ever dear, rhose lives, whose labors all were centred here How bright each figure stands before me now With eyes undimmed and fair unwrinkled brow, As when, with life before us yet untried, ^e walked the "Latin Quarter" side by side Through halls of death, through palaces of pain That cast their shadowd on the turbid Seine. ^hen ofer our coffee, at the old "Procope", Smiling, we cast each other's horoscope, Daring the future's dubious path to scan, Gerhard, your Gerhard was the coming man. Strong-brained, strong-willed, inquiring, patient, wise, He looked on truth through achromatic eyes; Sure to succeed, for lliture, lik© a main, Loves best the lovers who are not afraid, Lends them her hand to lead them where they please, And trusts them boldly with her L.aster-heps. Behold, unfading on the rolls of fane Typhus and Typhoid stamped with Gerhard's name. 318fcfc^ 2. Look on the stately fore at Gerhard's side He too shall live to be his city's pride. Tall, manly, quiet, grave, but not austere. Hot slow of wit, a little dull of ear, Aim we predestined to the place he won,- ITorris, the Quaker City's iJoble son. Armed with the sPill that science renders sure Ais look, his touch, were half his patient's cure; What need his merits I should further tell? His record stands; your pages know it well. Still wandering, lonely, mid the funeral urns To one loved name my saddening thought returns Less to the many known, but to the few A precious memory, - Stewardson, to you. Through many a league we two together fared, The traveller's comforts and discomforts shared, "'hen hills and valleys parted distant towns, Long ere the railway smoothed their ups and downs. In all the trials wearing days could bring Ho fretful utterance over left its sting Pity it was that, chased by pallid fears, He walked in shadow through his morning years, Talked of his early doom, and then, and then, Lived on, and on, past three score years and ten. Too shy, perhaps too timid, for success He fought life's battle bravely not the less, Others left prouder memories, none more dear, For those a sigh, for Stewardson a tearJ Viell, years rolled on, we went our several ways Hot unrewarded with our need of praise; Time took the weight and measure of our brains Set us our tasks and paid us for our pains At length four side-locks fast were turning gray) He brought our art that all-important day When here our Aesculapian Congress ret (Its second gathering, you will not forget). I with the crowd your far-famed city sought, Pleased to behold the schools where Rush had taught, Where r'is tar labored and where Horner led His thirsting flock to Surgery's fountain-hear. What kindly welcome v/ith the rest I shared; A little pleased - perhaps a little scared, When Chapman hugged me in his huge embrace With praise that lit a bonfire in my face - When Francis, guest at Ilitchell's generous board, IJy humble name across the table roared, Coupled with one which figures on the roll Of England's poets - bless his worthy soulI Garth - good Sir Samuel, whose poetic spark Scarce seen by day, still glimmers in the dark. These flitting phantoms of the past survive, hile grateful Pemory keeps her fires alive. Friends of the days that fear and anguish knew, IJy heart records a deeper debt to you. 3. To this kind refuge, hallowed evermore, Her shattered sufferers fond affection bore. Pull many a father tracked his bleeding son Fresh from the murderous conflict, lost or won, Strayed through some quiet ward, and lookinr round, In Pity's sheltering arms the lost was found. EnoughI EnoughJ these eyes will overflow In sweet remembrance of the debt I owe - A debt 'twould bankrupt gratitude to pay - But Heaven perhaps will hear me when I pray: Peace to pour borders I Long may Science reign Supreme, unchallenged o'er her old domain.' While sons as worthy as their sires of old Her borrowed sceptre still unbroken hold Till a new Rush arise who dares to think - An unborn Leidy finds the missing link. Oliver Wendell Holmes. Boston, April 28, 1892.