 | [Poems by Sill in] Decennial record of the class of 1861, Yale College |  |
32
[Many-rippling laughter comes]
Air—“Twinkling Stars.”
Many-rippling laughter comes,
From the hoary sea;
In their rock-roofed crystal homes,
Sea nymphs smile their sympathy;
While with careless joy we raise
To the sky each heart-felt tone;
While we sing thy lasting praise
Noble class of Sixty-one!
From the hoary sea;
In their rock-roofed crystal homes,
33
While with careless joy we raise
To the sky each heart-felt tone;
While we sing thy lasting praise
Noble class of Sixty-one!
Chorus
—Ever shine as bright as nowNoble Sixty-one!
Glories crown thy radiant brow,
Now Biennial is done.
Voices from the echoing rocks
Peal along the cry,
Trees unbowed by tempest shocks
Thrill their leaves in sympathy;
Waves in low, sad accents sing
On the melancholy shore,
While our joyful voices ring
Now Biennial is o'er.
Peal along the cry,
Trees unbowed by tempest shocks
Thrill their leaves in sympathy;
Waves in low, sad accents sing
On the melancholy shore,
While our joyful voices ring
Now Biennial is o'er.
Chorus
—Ever shine as bright as now, etc.
Bound by ties of brotherhood
Clasping hand in hand,
Long our golden chains have stood—
All our life they yet shall stand;
Many a threatening blow has come
Trying hard those links to part,
Still as first they hold us home,
Hand to hand and heart to heart.
Clasping hand in hand,
Long our golden chains have stood—
All our life they yet shall stand;
Many a threatening blow has come
Trying hard those links to part,
Still as first they hold us home,
Hand to hand and heart to heart.
Chorus
—Ever shine as bright, etc.
From the beaming sky above,
Stars look calmly down,
Soothing with their smile of love
All the roughness of night's frown;
So the stars of Love and Trust,
Shed their fairy, golden light
Through the gath'ring of life's dust,
Through the frowning of life's night.
Stars look calmly down,
Soothing with their smile of love
All the roughness of night's frown;
So the stars of Love and Trust,
Shed their fairy, golden light
Through the gath'ring of life's dust,
Through the frowning of life's night.
Chorus
—Ever shine as bright as nowNoble Sixty-one,
Glories crown thy radiant brow,
Now Biennial is done.
35
[Juniors here]
Air—“Nellie Bly.”
Juniors here,
Round the bier,
Let us chant our woe,
Sophomore year is dead and gone,
And fast the tear-drops flow.
For thy
Face, Bi–
Ennial! we pine;
For thy sleep of death we weep
These cataracts of brine.
Round the bier,
Let us chant our woe,
Sophomore year is dead and gone,
And fast the tear-drops flow.
For thy
Face, Bi–
Ennial! we pine;
For thy sleep of death we weep
These cataracts of brine.
Let our tunes,
Jolly Junes,
Shake the elms o'erhead;
Bawl and bellow every fel–
(1) O, Sophomore year is dead!
Softly
Sing “Bi–
Ennials are a bore,”
Now 'tis past, we roar at last,
Biennials are o'er.
Jolly Junes,
Shake the elms o'erhead;
Bawl and bellow every fel–
(1) O, Sophomore year is dead!
Softly
Sing “Bi–
Ennials are a bore,”
Now 'tis past, we roar at last,
Biennials are o'er.
Now we're out,
Raise the shout,
Hurrah for '61!
The siege is raised, for, Heaven be praised!
Biennials are done!
Out, men!
Shout, then;
Let the chorus ring.
Lungs were made to use, boys,
And songs were made to sing.
Raise the shout,
Hurrah for '61!
The siege is raised, for, Heaven be praised!
Biennials are done!
Out, men!
Shout, then;
Let the chorus ring.
Lungs were made to use, boys,
And songs were made to sing.
Cherished ever,
Never, never
Can our friendship fail
For each other and our mother—
Alma Mater—Yale.
Louder, then,
Once again
Swell the sounding song,
Till full and free, far out to sea,
The echoes roll along.
Never, never
Can our friendship fail
For each other and our mother—
Alma Mater—Yale.
Louder, then,
Once again
Swell the sounding song,
Till full and free, far out to sea,
The echoes roll along.
Though we say
“Good-bye,” to-day,
Wheresoe'er we sail,
We'll wake the echoes long and loud,
Of Yale, our dear old Yale.
Singing,
Ringing,
Tones shall never fail,
As we bare to every air
The flag of brave old Yale.
“Good-bye,” to-day,
Wheresoe'er we sail,
We'll wake the echoes long and loud,
Of Yale, our dear old Yale.
Singing,
Ringing,
Tones shall never fail,
As we bare to every air
The flag of brave old Yale.
| [Poems by Sill in] Decennial record of the class of 1861, Yale College | |