ODE. 1873.


ALMA MATER, we ask thee at parting once more

To accept, in our service of song,

The tribute we offer like thousands before,

Ere lost in the world's busy throng.


Farewell,-as the syllables break on the air,

Bright hopes with a fainter glow burn,

For a voice from the past we hear echoing there

And mocking the accents' return.


Fair Harvard, we love thee, we love the old halls

Where time left us, careless and free,

To find in each duty a pleasure that calls

The fondest of memories to thee;

And now by thy thresholds while, loyal in that,

Farewell to Fair Harvard we sing,

We feel that the future, though preciously fraught,

Can no days like our College days bring.