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A Tribute To Harvard's Band--

THE MAIL

(The following poem was submitted on the occasion of the Band's annual dinner which is to be held this evening--Ed. Note.)

There's a clarion sound of music

In the cool crisp autumn air--

And it's sounding nearer, nearer

To the crowd down at the Square

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For the loyal sons of Harvard

Are marching "Up the Street",

The boys who wave the Crimson

Are on their way to beat.

The piccolos are screeching,

The trumpets in full blast.

The drums in rhythm rolling

The trombones sliding fast,

And the saxophones are sobbing

In an under-alto key,

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