Johnson St Paris High School - Parisian Yearbook (Saint Paris, OH)

Page 27 text:

Our Campus To that person with the rake and seeds, who holds the future of our campus in his hands, I dedicate this rhyme, may it at the same time be an incentive and guide to him. Of Elysian fields we often hear, Of Alpine valleys held so dear, Of Scottish heathlands gray and drear, And Canadian woodlands much too sere, But none are so rare, None can compare With our campus. There when are gone bleak Winter’s snows. And Summer’s verdant mantle grows, Of ragweeds in such well spaced rows, The morning-glory trailing goes In festooned glory To tell the story When by chance you there trespass, Here and there a blade of grass campus. Will peep out at you as you pass, From behind some rocky mass. And you will start to see It’s shy timidity On our campus. There the students love to stroll, There the children’s marbles roll, And many a sight so very droll, Funny to all but the blind eyed mole Greets your sight Each morning bright, On There with friends a joy to know, Our Through summer’s sun and winter’s snow, campus. Midst much of pleasure, no more of woe, Our carefree life did lightly flow, Across that work of Nature’s art, Soon to be dear to every heart, Across our campus. Oh may it ever be my lot, To visit often that dear spot, And see these pleasures never bought. With you, my friends, may I not Stroll once more As in days of yore Across our 24 campus.