SOPHOMORE IDEALS -- OPERETTA Proem (With apologies to Mother Goose) "Where are you going, my pretty Soph?" "To Cedarville College, sir," she quoth. "As a Soph'more you're fortunate, Miss,for 'tis true That's the classiest class at old Orange and Blue." Strophe (with apologies to none) The New Year came; and passed our doors,— Still we continue Sophomores. We occupy as strange a position As those enforcing Prohibition. Or, as the Ancients 'tween the rocks We're doomed, on either hand,to knocks; We raise our heads for one glance'round— Where have we been? Where are we bound? Intermezzo Some laugh at us ("Mere Sophies, eh?") Who know the meaning of our name;— Yet wise and foolish both were they Whose records fill the halls of fame. Antistrophe Two decades hence still must we be Crude Sophomores as now you see With problems taxing mind and heart At loss to know and do our part While some among the tribe of men May need our hands,our tongues, our pens? God grant, ere lost'mid storm and strife, We each may find the goal for life: That even though our scope be small We'll seldom fail and never fall: That realizing we've a limit We'll touch and influence all that's in it. Postlude (With apologies to all) We may always know a little— We can never know it all— We may lay a brick or boulder, Though we never build the wall. C.B. 42
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