The sibyl . er;But heres to the cleverest girl of the lot— The girl who can cook a good dinner. * * * * Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proudAs he rides in his swift-flying car like a cloud?A break in the axle, a burst in the tire ;He passeth from life to the heavenly choir. THE BRIDGE I stood on the bridge at seven As the bell was tolling the hour; And the moon rose high in the heavenBehind the college tower. Among the long black raftersThe wavering shadows lay, And the hearts of the hidden couplesSeemed lifted and borne away. I saw Annette and Neally As they went strolling was m
The sibyl . er;But heres to the cleverest girl of the lot— The girl who can cook a good dinner. * * * * Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proudAs he rides in his swift-flying car like a cloud?A break in the axle, a burst in the tire ;He passeth from life to the heavenly choir. THE BRIDGE I stood on the bridge at seven As the bell was tolling the hour; And the moon rose high in the heavenBehind the college tower. Among the long black raftersThe wavering shadows lay, And the hearts of the hidden couplesSeemed lifted and borne away. I saw Annette and Neally As they went strolling was most shocked, but reallyHe was holding her quite fast. And far in the hazy distance Of that lovely night in June, The hair of Marie Siddall Gleamed redder than the moon. And like those waters rushingAmong the old stone piers, A flood of thoughts came over meThat filled my eyes with tears. How often, oh, how often In the days that had gone by,Had couples stood there at seven And gazed on the wave and sky!124. flri£3e( How often, oh, how often, I had wished that the rolling streamWould bear me away on its bosom To that fairest land of my dream. For there hearts were full of fancies,And there life was free from care, And there were no burdens upon meWhich someone did not share. But that fancy has fallen from me,And is buried in the stream ; And my heart laughs within me When I think of that foolish dream. But whenever you cross the river, On its bridge with the old stone piers, Youll think of the happy momentsYou spent there in former years. For you were as guilty as any Of seeking the shadows, and hiding Beneath the long dark rafters From those who might be passing. 125 Now Verda, dont try to evade it, You know your sins find you out! Well all forgive you, thats certain;But of your guilt theres no doubt. There are others, too, to be sure,For go any night that you will, Ill promise you no disappointment, For at least youll find Freda and Bill. If you promise Ill tell y
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Keywords: ., boo, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectcollegeyearbooks
