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Page 29 text:
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Class Song Out among thy aged big oaks Thou hast laid in our minds great hopes. The long-looked day has come at last, While life ' s best days are in the past. In midst of nature ' s scenes and trees, Of forests, hills and balmy breeze, Into our characters we ' ve cast The truths and rich things that will last. You are the dearest spot we know, And through the world we all will go As ministers and workers then, Instilling God in hearts of men. Chorus : Close to our hearts, dear O. J. C, Shall ever thy memory be. Living for Him we ' ll make men see We ' re living too for O. J. C. Grace M. Hamilton.
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Page 28 text:
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President ' s Address The .J)(Co? ' al Value of a ILoJty T ' ur pose Worthy President, Members of the Faculty, Classmates, vStudents, and Friends: Purpose is the backbone of a life of courage. It is our master-ship of situations and our kingship of conditions and circumstances, fighting for the right and fight- ing to the end. We must never be at ease for the mere accomplishment of some task, but rekindle the altar flame of the soul, and untiringly raise our aspirations to a higher and still higher moral ideal. Nothing has the power to lift us above ourselves, and help us up the steep pathway of moral life, but our own purposes, sincerely cher- ished, however trivial, or however limited. The only fortune in this life worth the finding and which can be found by every- one is a lofty purpose, and it is not to be found in the balmy atmosphere of some foreign or distant land, neither in the gray dawn of coming time, but here and now. Who has ever set a noble purpose and fixed his eyes thereon and failed to receive an increase of moral strength? By dwelling upon it carefully and incessantly, we make it a part of our consciousness, and its radiance extends to the will, stirring it to renewed activity. No man has ever turned to that which is true, elevating, and noble, and looked upon it with a deep, ardent, and persistent gaze without being morally strengthened. Consider how the whole soul of man is composed into a kind of real harmony the moment he has a purpose. The highest motive of the life of the young Corsican com- mander was to gratify his ambition for purpose and glory. At the age of twenty- eight he framed his schemes, and at thirty he realized them. Three times he humbled the proud house of Hapsburg to the dust, three times he defeated the Russian armies, and tore to pieces the kingdom it took the Hohenzollerns centuries to build. Wehn a purpose is set, distrust, compunction, indignation, and despair, which lie like mastiffs beleaguering the soul of the purposeless, are stilled and begin to shrink, murmuring, far off into their caves. A man is then the man. Lack of purpose is an ether that puts us to sleep, and a cancer that eats out our very lives. As the sky is a roomy place, giving room for the sun, moon, and stars to more in their appointed ways without touching each other, so is the world of human life a great, wide, roomy place with a chance for every conceivable type. Each man builds his own particular planet of life and moves with it on its own selected orbit, througli this universe of interest, by the relation he sustains and the forms of action into which he enters. When a man becomes willing to live along the same level of achievement, content with no ambition, — that is the tragedy and defeat of life. But to grow higher, deeper, wider; to conquer difficulties and acquire more and more power; to feel all the faculties unfolding as the years go by; this makes life worth living. Live for something, have a purpose, And that purpose keep in view. Drifting like a helpless vessel. Thou canst ne ' er to life be true; Half the wrecks that strew life ' s ocean, If some star had been their guide. Might have long been riding safely, — But they drifted with the tide. W. C. Kn v. RDS.
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Page 30 text:
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Presentation of Gift Tonight, we, the graduating class of 192S, are looking forward to the tomorrow when we shall say adieu to our dear Alma Plater; and, ere we change the scene of this drama, we consider deeply the utmost needs of a perishing humanity. We count it more than a pleasure that words become beggars to describe, to pause aside in deepest sincerity to pay our tenderest and kindest regards to the respect we owe to O. J- College and to those who so patiently labored with us amid tr ' ing and ofttimes provoking circumstances with untiring zeal, love, and interest, that we might climb the heights and be encouraged to attain a greater consummation of an unsur eyed field. We do not wish to present the gift alone, but with the gift, the loyal hearts of the givers. This gift will be a token of oiu- profound gratitude for the firm standards, noble character, and lofty ideals you have instilled within our souls. For after being instructed mentally, physically, and above all spiritually, we can withstand the perils. Behold as we contemplate the plane and the race before us, with all its oppor- tunities, possibilities, and achievements, our hearts leap with joy. But the pre- meditated, joyous anticipations of this occasion, and the thought of parting from these four walls so dear to the hearts of those who soon must part to launch out upon the uncertainties of tomorrow, strike us with awe and sadness. We cannot overlook, even in a crisis, our most beloved schoolmates, whose com- panionship has meant much to us amidst our perplexities, To you, dear fellow students, we leave this injunction: that you be zealous, honor your instructors, re- main loyal to the standards of O. J. C, and ever remember your sincere fidelity to God. Words fail to express the deepest appreciation which we have for our institution; therefore, we have endeavored to make it more tangible by asking that you accept with our love and fond sincerity the support of the American Standard — ' the flagpole. ' As you gaze upon this pole, may it perpetuate in your memon, the stand- ards of our - lma Mater ' s lofty ideals. Consider not the gift, but the givers: thus, kind friends, dear schoolmates, faithful teachers, and beloved Alma Plater, we bid you adieu. Artie P. NIcXichols.
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