Rooms 309, 323, 325

Pauline Window, Room 309

Charles J. Connick Associates, Boston, Massachusetts, 1968

Room 309 Window

Excerpt from Robert Browning's

. . . I believe in God and truth
And love; and as one just escaped from death
Would bind himself in bands of friends to feel
He lives indeed, so, I would lean on thee!
Thou must be ever with me, most in gloom
If such must come, but chiefly when I die,
For I seem, dying, as one going in the dark
To fight a giant: but live thou forever,
And be to all what thou hast been to me!
All in whom this wakes pleasant thoughts of me
Know my last state is happy, free from doubt
Or touch of fear. Love me and wish me well.

A key to a new world, the muttering
Of Angels, something yet unguessed by men.

Honoring Dr. & Mrs. Oleinick P. Constantine

Gift of Phi Beta Mu

Sonnets from the Portuguese, Sonnet 6 Window, Room 323

Charles J. Connick Associates, Boston, Massachusetts, 1974

Room 323 Window

Elizabeth Barrett Browning's
Sonnets from the Portuguese
Sonnet 6

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore, ..
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes, the tears of two.

What I do and what I dream include thee as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes

In tribute to Mary Maxwell Armstrong

Gift of Mrs. Ray Lofton Dudley

Fra Lippo Lippi Window, Room 325

Charles J. Connick Associates, Boston, Massachusetts, 1965

Room 325 Window

Excerpts from Robert Browning's
"Fra Lippo Lippi"

I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave!
You need not clap your torches to my face.
Zooks, what's to blame? you think you see a monk!
What, 't is past midnight, and you go the rounds,
And here you catch me at an alley's end. . . .

     Into shreds it went,
Curtain and counterpane and coverlet,
All the bed-furniture--a dozen knots,
There was a ladder! Down I let myself. . . .

However, you're my man, you've seen the world
--The beauty and the wonder and the power,
The shapes of things, their colors, lights and shades,
Changes, surprises,--and God made it all!

If you get simple beauty and naught else
You get about the best thing God invents

In honor of Samuel Palmer Brooks

Gift of Cornelia Marschall Smith
and Charles G. Smith