The Washington bee., 1910-06-04
CLASS POEM.
Class of Nineteen Ten, School of
Liberal Arts of Howard University

! Dy Leroy L. Jones.
All han with JOY the senior class, the
class of 1910.
For four long years we labored hard.
/ the Art Degrees to win,
But though the prize is in our grasp
| and we have won the race
| Our minds are filled with tender
thoughts, as we leave this dear
place
The boys now think of old Clark Hall
in which they often slept.
The girls look back on Miner Hall,
where social hours were kept
They both recall the chapel dear, for
there Gods words were taught.
And hear anew that splendid choir,
whose music wonders wrought
We next review old football games,
with Union, Lincoln, Shaw,
How we did yell for our home team,
-, and NIL the air with rahS,
We saw them hit and plow the line
we saw them cross the goal,
And cheered them as they won each
game, for they were brave and
bold
All, those were joyous, thrilling
times, when might and skill did
meet,
To see which team would honor win.
and which would receive defeat.
Should we not praise our own dear
team, since it surpassed them
all
And plainly showed to all the world,
that we could play football?
The great debates dart through our
minds, here brains were put to
test,
We met Atlanta. Lincoln. Fisk, who
fought us with their best.
But better still were those they met.
who fought for HOward'S cause.
50 each IN turn received defeat, while
we received applause
Does this not prove beyond all doubt
that Howard holds first place
Among her sister colleges, which edu-
cate our race?
Does this not show she's moving on
to greater, grander things,
That she will soon toward any school
her fearful challenge fling?
Try as we may we can't forget the
social times we had,
In company with our college friends
who made our poor hearts glad
How tender are those memories now,
since we from them must part,
And somewhere in this great wide
world, our life anew TO start.
Our minds now drift to class room
work, where knowledge did
abound,
Alas, we see our store is small, as
leaving day rolls round,
| But learning is not useful now, if it
is not applied,
| So we will use our little bit in some
field it's desired.
Some way, of course good teachers
make, because they can instruct,
Some lawyers and physicians be,
since they possess the pluck,
| What course indeed the rest may
take, | can't with ease foretell,
But this | hope, whate'er it is, that
they may do it well.
For all of us in battle line must fight
our way through life,
! The conflict often will be fierce, un-
certain oft the strife,
, But we must stand like ingot steel,
| without a groan or sigh,
| And execute our class motto, To
conquer or to die.
| Our wandering minds return at last,
the time draws near to leave,
| We must express our parting thanks
for benefits received,
| Our parting words must then be
said, to teachers, mates and
| friends,
| Ere we depart from these dear walls,
and college days shall end.
God bless our noble president, who
| by his earnest zeal,
| Has reused our latest energies, and
! opened up new fields.
| The Science Hall, the new Library,
| are products of his works,
| And what we need now is a gym, let
us this task not shirk.
All honor TO our noble Deans, for
they built up the school,
And dedicated life and thought to
| students as a rule.
We thank them more for what they
| did to make our lives refined,
Than what they taught Of calculus
and other stuff combined.
Let praises ring for teachers now.
for they our thoughts did mold
And anything not clear to us they
gladly did unfold,
Although their tests were difficult,
and oft much thought required.
We managed to get by them all, and
now we're satisfied.
| The saddest tiAhe of all has come, we
bid classmates farewell.
May all of US lead useful lives, and
ignorance dispel,
Good by, dear Alma Mater, you, we
shall e'er defend,
Whate'er we do; Where'er we be, the
class of 1910
LEROY E. JONES.