We Love Every Inch of Her Campus Green
Father was silent for a minute. Then he spoke out.
“We’ll go a long way before we find a better place for you or the girls either. It’s liberal and democratic, and it’s building mighty fine citizens for the state of Idaho. What was the song we heard so often about the campus and the crested hill? I can’t quite get it straightened out, but it certainly touches the spot.”
And the boy, still aglow with enthusiasm, sat back and sang softly, over and over again:
“We love every inch of her campus green,
Each view of her crested hill;
We love every man that reveres her name,
Our glasses to her we fill.
She’s the hope of our proud young mountain state,