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SMAD. An Organ of Student Opinion. 1935. Volume 6. Number 5.

Down Eros! Up Mars!

Down Eros! Up Mars!

Tenderest, the time is near, is here, When you and I shall pause no longer

In the wake of gas and lead.

Say now your prayers, if prayers you have to offer;

Fold your lifetime's toil in that late list.

No more shall boom for us the cannon,

No more the earth tremble.

Come away, Tenderest, I am blind;

Lead me to my grave.

My love, my soul, my little war-fiend,

Tell me lingering tales of war!

No use for outside prattle!

Whisper war to me.

Come, my love, I am dying;

Only tales of war can soothe me,

For there's war within the clouds.

Furious wings shoot thick above me . . . .

Are they angels? . . I am dying . .

Are they come to take me?

Ah, they come, man's angry Angels, Bringing sleep.

My love, the world is gone to rest . . . !

And a poor old Man.

With His hand across His brow,

Scans the wilderness of scene,

Fixing in His head tall plans

For His new man's future.

And there shall be no war

When all is over.

M.L.

As the selection of a suitable blazer is of vital interest to all students, it is earnestly hoped that all members will exercise a vote.

* * *

It is not true that the Dramatic Society is under the thumb of Miss Tossman.