Brother Ben Harris, Epsilon (Michigan) 1903, was one of the early members of the Epsilon Chapter. He was also quite a poet, and he used his skills to entertain his chapter brothers. In the 1908 Sinfonian Yearbook, each chapter submitted a report consisting of their members and activities during the previous year, not unlike today’s chapter updates that grace our various publications. Epsilon’s report included several poems from Brother Harris. They are reprinted below.
I’m a Goin’ to the West
Yes, I’m a goin’ to the mowin’An the blowin’ of the West,
‘Cause it’s a callin’ and a callin’
With a never endin zest.
Echoes wakin’, leaves a shakin’
At the breakin’ of the morn,
Birds entreatin’; throats a beatin’
Makes me here forlorn.
Pines a sighin’, magpies flyin’,
Breezes dying, air just thrills;
Fish a jumpin’, rocks a bumpin’,
My heart’s a thumpin’ for the hills.
Streams a rushin’, echoes hushin’,
At the blushin’ of the day,
Snow-drops growin’, wild-rose blowin’,
I’m a goin’ soon, I pray.
I’m jest a yearnin’ an’ a burnin’
For a turnin’ to the West,
Jest a longin’ an’ a waitin’
For the land I love the best.
Yes, I’m a goin’ to the snowin’
An’ the blowin’ of the West,
‘Cause it’s a callin’ an’ a callin’
With a never endin’ zest.
Ode to Brother Earle Killeen
There they are; with tho’ts afar,One a blonde and one brunette,
Each for me a guiding star,
One demure and one coquette.
Both divine, which for mine,
Pretty blonde or gay brunette?
Their graces rival yet combine,
Dearest girls I ever met.
Which girl do I want? you say,
Dainty blonde or sweet brunette,
That’s not it, a lack aday!
The question is which can I get.
Editor’s Note: Earlier in the report, there is a passing reference to Earle Killeen’s predisposition toward the ladies, so this was likely a chapter in-joke aimed at his friend and fellow Sinfonian.
Name It
Take your mandolin, Old Pal,When the glimmering twilight encloses,
And the sweet perfume
Of the varied bloom
Mounts from the flowering gardens of roses.
Play a melody, Old Pal,
Which the silvery echoes returning,
Will blend, as it seems,
Into cobweby dreams
All the murmuring cadences yearning.
Wake the memories, Old Pal,
Of the slumbering moments of bygones
Into lights, into shades,
Into sweet serenades,
Till the wavering haze of the day dawns.
A Toast
I left her on the landing,I strok’d her wavy hair.
I kissed her and caressed her,
She didn’t seem to care.
She was so sweet and charming,
I felt my heart throbs beat,
My love I could not tell her,
She had my soul complete.
She said, “good bye, my dearest,”
A tear dropped from her eye,
A tremor filled my very soul,
And trembled in a sigh.
I knew she was the sweetest,
To me could be no other,
I will worship her forever,
Drink friends – to mother.