Morning breaks, all golden yellow
Autumn sunshine, warm and mellow,
Indian summer of the year.
Youthful hearts beat high with gladness,
Older hearts forget their sadness,
For again Thanksgiving's here.
Autumn sunshine, warm and mellow,
Indian summer of the year.
Youthful hearts beat high with gladness,
Older hearts forget their sadness,
For again Thanksgiving's here.
We give thanks for those who love us,
For the brooding God above us,
And for all His watchful care.
For our harvest fields unspoiled,
And our whole broad land unsoilèd
By the blood of martyrs there.
For the brooding God above us,
And for all His watchful care.
For our harvest fields unspoiled,
And our whole broad land unsoilèd
By the blood of martyrs there.
Faculty 8—Seniors 2
Hurrah for the Faculty! Here's to the winners,
Who showed from the start they were sure not beginners,
The courtesy shown by the youthful to age,
The greatest esteem for the wise and the sage,
Caused our boys such discomfiture, each one and all
That they were scarce able to play them at all.
Who showed from the start they were sure not beginners,
The courtesy shown by the youthful to age,
The greatest esteem for the wise and the sage,
Caused our boys such discomfiture, each one and all
That they were scarce able to play them at all.
So it seems not so strange, that our friends, Brockport Normal,
Should send us a sad declination quite formal,
When asked for a game with the brave I. H. S.,
They were most unwillingly forced to confess,
That just as our boys feared the stern Facultee,
So, they, in their turn, dreaded our boys to see!
Should send us a sad declination quite formal,
When asked for a game with the brave I. H. S.,
They were most unwillingly forced to confess,
That just as our boys feared the stern Facultee,
So, they, in their turn, dreaded our boys to see!
