Lipscomb University - Backlog Yearbook (Nashville, TN)

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THE COLLEGE

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SIS ast ; {OTHE BACK LOG ,. Ode ie) iG It stands as a statue on Granny White Pike, With purpose so loyal and true. A meadow lies back in the distance; Beyond rise hills to my view. The roads cross near at right angles, Traversed by pomp and array. With a campus that glistens like fangles, I’ve watched it there many a day. In memory’s hall will hang this picture; And though troubles the years may glean, It will hang with a beautiful gilding, And well shall I love it, I ween. As I view it from every corner, In the sunshine or in the storm, I see the great love of its founder That Christ to the lost might be borne. The teachers well I shall remember; My heart will long keep them in place. Though by the world they could be forgotten, Their memory no time can efface. They meet us with smiles in the threshold, And in that brick temple of art They’re weaving with the skill of a workman Their touch on the mind and the heart. We sit in our classrooms at bell call, And are admonished so kindly when late To think of the opening future, And dream of our manhood’s estate. O, days of my boyhood! I bless you, While looking from life’s busy prime; The treasures will e’er linger with me That I gather from life’s early prime. When from my view this place is hidden, Many things I may come to forget; Yet I’ll always pause with fond memory The faces so fondly I met. I’ll see very oft the old meadow, And the hills behind it so blue, Away in the charm of the distance. Dear old David Lipscomb, ’tis you! CLAYTON L. JAMES. Six

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