Mount Vernon Seminary - Cupola Yearbook (Washington, DC)

Page 26 text:

First, as timid Juniors, our Class formed — ( We sing not of those days when we were young. But pass by quickly to our greater years When W isdom sits upon our brows and sways Her sceptre over all our smallest deeds. ) Our Class though great in numbers and in strength Was lacking in its present dignity. We chose our color and t lie paradox W herein thou mayest read of our desires. And iti its depths find promise of success. Our Junior Class the color safely kept. Though in the end — most doleful to be told. The contest was withdrawn — so no one won. When next the Juniors come to prominence. All eyes were dazzled by the wondrous feast We gave the Seniors. There the lily white And red carnations waned in friendship’s name. The toasts with mighty laughter filled the room, And good will shook the rafters of the roof. The Seniors sang to us a farewell song. And wished us all a happy Senior Year — And sorrowfully to them we bade Cod-speed. 1 1 ail to the Senior ( lass ! W e’ve honored and loved you long. Although we were rivals In days that are past. Forget, and list to our song. W hen we are Seniors too. Your example will lead 11 s on; With earnest endeavor. Our song will be ever — Hail to the Senior Class!

Page 25 text:

history of 1911 Dorothy Peet In ages past ’neatli smiling summer skies. There wandered often, bards about the land Whose grizzled beards reached almost to the knees So hoary were they, from long journeying. Around the neck there hung a silver lyre, Whereon with trembling fingers they would strike, And in sweet accents tell the well-known tale. They sang of deeds of valor of the land Of kingdoms conquered, battles lost and won. Of knights in armor fighting at the joust, Of damsels fair who proudly smiled on them. No longer are there bards to sing their songs, No longer are there lyres with silver strings To sing of prowess, but the deeds of men Are shut in pages of dust-covered books. But we, in memory of those ancient bards, W ill sing our own songs as they sang of old. We tell how sometimes Fate was very kind And all our deeds were favored; how sometimes, Fate lead us blindly so we lost our way. Like Greeks of old, fierce smitten by the Gods. But through our songs the note predominant Is ever Truth and Immortality; So harken well to Class of Nineteen-Eleven, And glean from our own lips our history. 15

Page 27 text:

“W hen school days here are o’er. And Juniors and Seniors part. Our lives will be brighter Our courage more strong, Your motto will live in our heart. May blessings strew your path And your way be tilled with song; Wherever we meet you With these words we’ll greet vou Hail to 1910!” We trembled as we watched the Senior Class, Suffused in knowledge, read their Senior Themes ’Twas Conservation that they preached abroad, “Conserve the trees for races yet to come,” What was our theme to be? We feared to guess; The Senior play then filled us with delight. Yet could we ever dare aspire so high? Then a green ivy planted 1910. And gave the time-worn shovel unto us — Thus one by one their last tasks they performed, Doubts and forboding sadness filled our hearts And spent itself in tears. W hen we marched in And took the Senior seats we felt the pall Of a new dignity creep in our souls — A new responsibility for all. The fall of 1911 came and brought The eager Juniors to their Seniorhood; In Senior House they thronged and gazed about A little proudly on the world at large. We gave the world to know of our desires And aspirations for the year to come. 17