Across the sober tints of college life,
When some young magnate of the West arrays
Himself in gorgeousness, his dress all rife
In bright, barbaric hues, and so essays
Ehe war dance and the tomahawk doth raise?
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Our College in the years that saw her young,
And like young mothers full of love and care
And foolish fear, around her children flung
Her arms too close, nor granted them that share
Of trust and freedom they in justice craved,
But growing wiser as the years went by
She loosed the petty irksome bonds and saved
Their love for her and taught them to descry
In her a friend and not a crafty spy.
Many brave hopes Fair Harvard's fountain fed.
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Harvard Shooting Club.
