Bucknell University - L Agenda Yearbook (Lewisburg, PA)

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h 1 IJISTORY repeats itself, quoth the wise man. We grant it. To claim that ■ ■ we are the only original class were folly. Preceding years have gradu- ated cla.sses with much honor. Suffice it that we have garnered in their wisdom, and now stand before you the latest original class ! You will count us over at Commencement time. Do so with respectful hand. Juniors ! — Seek the source of our power; it lies in Metaphysics. Sophs ! — Lay aside some measure of your frivolity. Embrace Senior dignity. Freshmen ! — One word is enough. Copy the Juniors. You cannot as yet comprehend the length and breadth of Senior character. Soon ' 98 will launch her bark upon the sea of life. But why launch? Have we not been sailing all the while? Very quietly, ' tis true, down a sheltered river to the sea. Few shoals to distress us, now and then a Scylla or Chary bdis in the guise of a formidable Freshman class menacing our Sophomore rights. Many happy views and pleasures have there been. Now as June draws nigh, we look back, thankful that we have been permitted to enjoy collegiate privileges. For look ye. Sophs and Juniors — likewise redolent Freshmen, that the end of college days may not find you gazing sadly back over a path of a.shes and neg- lected opportunities. But we may not philosophize, — time does not permit. The latest original ' 98 bids you all a friendly farewell, and would drop the curtain with the parting injunction: — Forget us not ! Historian. r - n

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CLASS OF 98. CLASS YELL: AUi-ga-zoo! Ga-zoo! Ga-zate! Bucknell! Bucknell! Ninety-eight. Class Colors. — Brown and Blue. Class Flower. — Forget-me-not. Class Motto. — Virtus in actione consistit. Roy Browjj Mulkik, Ruth Horsfield Spraguk, Andrew Albright Leiser, George Tilden Ritter, Emma Miller Bolenius, Grace Slifer, President. Vice-President. Secretary. - Treasurer. Historian. Poet.

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. i v-? ;. ' V»: . - i 7f:iSr:L-tM ' .-- Farewell to College. There is a sea — a broad and boundless sea- One sails it if he will or no; He sails it nobly, without fear, and free; Or crushed with pain and woe. With suffering, bonds and strife. The sea is life. A group of youths and maidens came we hither. To whom the sea stretched out its broad expanse As yet untried. For the journey Each has fashioned for himself a craft; A tiny thing, perhaps, and frail, Which, when it ventures on the roughened main May meet with many a tempest dread and stern That shall so greatly wrench and test its beams, That it shall well-nigh yield in weakness. But, o ' er the rugged billows of the deep E ' en now full many a craft has sailed away, And, staunch and strong, with courage ever true, They battle with the storms and swelling tides, And each a constant pledge of hope. To one who is just pushing off from shore It is a painful thing to loose the chain; To sever one by one the cords that hold him fast. To leave the sheltering harbor ' s friendly care Alight with ruddy glow of beauteous morn. And turn away his face to depths unknown. E ' en so to thee — oh entrance to the vast unknown, Oh noble door to noble life beyond — To thee — our college home — which we have loved, In sadness we shall say farewell. We thank thee for the strength which thou hast given To guide the little craft at our command; We thank thee for the impulse thou hast given To anchor safely in the better land. — Poet. 23 i)li ' ill