Washington State University - Chinook Yearbook (Pullman, WA)

Page 21 text:

COLORS: GREEN AND WHITE No. i. Boom-a-lak-a-re! Boom-a-Iak-a-be! 1907, Hityee! YELLS: No. 2. Ki-yi! ki-yi! Ker-zip, ker-zi! 1907, Root hog, or die! 15

Page 20 text:

FRESHMEN O pause, Swift Time! Haste not! But cease your flight! O do not end this happy Freshman Year, Till ninety hearts in song both clear and sweet, Pay tribute to your kindness and your age. For you it was who gave the Freshman Year, With all its youthful joys and jollities, Successes, triumphs, victories, battles won, Complete, in fact, with all attending bliss. And since we scorn ingratitude as base, We now in song our thankfulness would show; And yet in this desire our aims but fail, For song, although the language of the soul, Can not express the fullness of our hearts. If future clouds cast shadows in our sky, The memory of this long and happy year Will flood the sunshine through our hearts again; Will make our paths less difficult to tread, And cause the loads we bear to seem more light. And when our locks now dark have turned to gray, And sight once keen has grown both weak and dim, Life’s pleasures then will rest in thoughts of yore, When we to grief and age were yet unknown. Then will we turn our thoughts to memory’s realm, And gazing through the gathering mist of years Upon the paths we trod while yet in youth; The brightest spot upon that happy shore, Will be undoubtedly the Freshman Year! The year is almost gone, yet e’er it’s past, Let’s fill the air with one tremendous cheer! Let Freshmen sons all hail the Freshman Year! Our song is sung, our tribute now is paid, And Time no longer waits but passes on. And doing so reminds us that we, too, Into the unknown future swiftly go. O would the gods on us compassion show, And give us but a glimpse of times to come. We long to pierce the veil which shrouds that land, And sec what Future holds in store for us. Look! Let us see, for Fate, most good and kind, In answer to our longings and our prayers, Has called the mist away, or drawn the blind, Which veils the future from the eyes of men! There through the portal of the happy Now, The future lies—let’s see if harsh or kind. Three monuments are seen upon the sand, Three milestones more that mark our college days; The Sophomore, the Junior, Senior years— And next a blank—then in the sky appears Reflected light as from some sunny shore, But that we fathom not. And here nearby, At first o’er looked, and yet how plain in view, In transverse course a caravan appears. Interpreted reveals that close at hand, The marts of trade, to lead us from our goal, Will cross our path with rubies, pearls and gold. Deluded if we follow in the train We’ll miss the path that leads to yonder light, And never taste the sweets of Knowledge Land. Resolved, then to shun the snares of Trade Let’s set our faces firmly toward the light. And then the path which we will travel o’er Will lead us by those massive pyramids. And as we pass those mounds of knowledge built, We’ll learn the mysteries which the three contain, And having passed the third, the Senior Year, The way to that bright land most clear will be. And once we reach that land, called Wisdom’s home. The World will give to each the crown, Success. Then let the Senior Year our watchword be. Let Freshmen sons all hail the Senior Year!

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OFFICERS FIRST SEMESTER E. A. MacKay, President. Bess Vermilye, Secretary. J. W. Brislawn, Vice-President. E. R. Pickrell, Treasurer. 16