Battlefield, 1916 . s school, may each one gladly say: Not in vain have I labored, nor toiled alone: May rich harvest be reaped from the good I have sown. Grace: Franklin BeazlEy, Class Poet. ??^y Bnn^ 0f IB Tune: In the Gloaming. Tis the day when retrospection Turns our gaze oer what is past,And our hearts are filled with gladness, For weve reached the goal at the goal through many a struggle, Many an act of mischief hopes, and aims, and lessons. And weve had, withal, much fun. One last time we stand together And whateer may come betweenWhen our paths so soon are parted
Battlefield, 1916 . s school, may each one gladly say: Not in vain have I labored, nor toiled alone: May rich harvest be reaped from the good I have sown. Grace: Franklin BeazlEy, Class Poet. ??^y Bnn^ 0f IB Tune: In the Gloaming. Tis the day when retrospection Turns our gaze oer what is past,And our hearts are filled with gladness, For weve reached the goal at the goal through many a struggle, Many an act of mischief hopes, and aims, and lessons. And weve had, withal, much fun. One last time we stand together And whateer may come betweenWhen our paths so soon are parted We will ever love Sixteen;Ever love our Alma Mater For the blessing she has givn;Ever truly strive to serve her As far from her gates weve drivn. Ah! the future seems to beckon, Calling us to paths we hasten now to follow With brave hearts, whateer , we ask to bid us godspeed; One last time our love we tell;And, with hope to steer us onward, Lingering, we say farewell! Mary Spencer i©iifa^ MAS m&oiLmii ^m 11 % I
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