CANNON SONG.
Come, seniors, come, and fill your pipes,
Your richest incense raise;
Let's take a smoke, a parting smoke,
For good old by-gone days!
Chorus. For good old by-gone days,
We'll smoke for good old by-gone days!
We'll take a smoke, a parting smoke,
For good old by-gone days!
We'll crown the cannon with a cloud,
We'll celebrate its praise;
Recalling its old parting smoke,
For good old by-gone days!
We'll smoke to these we leave behind
In devious college ways;
We'll smoke to songs we've sung before,
In good old by-gone days.
We'll smoke to Alma Mater's name;
She loves the cloud we raise!
For well she knows the "biggest guns"
Are in the coming days!
We'll smoke the times, the good old times,
When we were called fire!
Their light shall blaze in memory,
Till the lamp of life expire!
Then let each smoking pipe be broke,—
Hurrah for coming days!
We'll take a march, a merry march,
To meet the coming days!
H.P. PECK.