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THE ATHENEUM 39 THE HORSEMAN (Dedicated to the Morehouse Football Team) Fight on, Fight on, the endless cry Falls fast upon his ear; He leaps, he jumps, his heart’s desire Transcends the thought of fear. Wild beast, he shouts, he snorts, and shatters, Tackling the dashing foe. He grumbles not though from him spatters His blood, his precious gore. He fights with frantic skill, as brave As the few Spartans bold once stood When Xerxes fled. He stands the wave, A ship upon the flood. He plunges hard upon the line, While making for the goal, Opposing hands him doth entwine To bring him to the mould. Fight on, Fight on, the cry will cease When vict’ry crowns him king And he shall breathe the air of peace— The song of triumph sing. —Grady Farley, Ac. ’25. FATE .Oh fate, my guide, my leading light, With eve my strong hopes fade, I fear, I dread the coming night; My mind cannot evade Those scorching pangs without relief, Those chilling swoons of untold grief, The coming of tomorrow’s shade. I delved while fiercely shone the sun, One faint hope lingers still; I fear when e’er the battle is won The answer will but chill That tired soul which vainly stood, Which like a hero shed its blood, And sorrowful my fate be still. < Will e’er on thorns my footstep be? Defeated be my cry? , H- Or e’er the song of destiny Be a life-lone sigh? —Grady Farley, Ac. ’25.