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1. WAR ECHOES.

YEAR eighteen-sixty, - ah, but then

We were a jolly set of men

As ever sat in Harvard Hall

And answered to the dull roll-call;

Or hurried through the snowy air

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In coat and boots to morning prayer.

We Freshmen were, - that happy tribe

That furnish many a sneer and jibe,

For upper-classmen, who forget

That they were Freshmen once; and yet

Methinks that in those golden days

We minded not their lofty ways

And laughed at all attempts to haze.

We had a little coterie

Of steadfast friends, in number three.

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