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A Toast.

COMMENT

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

It's over now--the course is run,

The careless days are sped;

It seems as though they're, just begun,

It cannot be they're fled.

Then lift the glass and drink it down,

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Let eye meet eye once more,

Nor let one comrade glimpse a frown

Now at the open door.

And if the paths lead far and wide

Remember this our toast:

To Harvard--and on field or tide

Know she loves honor most. ALFRED PUTNAM '18.

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