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Class Song.

Words by A. T. Hind. Tune: In Dear Old Georgia.

I.
In the days of yore, when younger lads, we thought of Emory;
We wondered if we'd e'er be Em'ry men;
We thought -- and truly -- 'twould be great to study in her halls,
But vague our thoughts, our hopes, our dreamings then.
But now on looking backward, we see our college days,
And forward are the scenes of worldy strife;
The time now quickly moves apace to when we'll say good bye
To joys and sorrows of our college life.

II.
Her name is fairer than the name of any flower that blooms,
No name, but one, gives joy so pure and true;
Her sweet aromas, softly breathed and scattered over life,
Are pure, refreshing as the morning dew;
In every land and country, where e'er her sons may be,
She speaks a noble message, clear and true;
We're Em'ry men, we'll sing again, as from her halls we go,
And proudly wear the Orange and Blue.

III.
The classes that have gone before have sung their songs of praise,
Have paid their fitting tribute to her worth,
With colors floating gaily adding merit to their songs,
But now they bear her flag through all the earth;
And we of nineteen-seven, our carol proudly sing--
You'll pardon us if we should seem to boast,
And place with pride the White and Blue above the other flags,
And say 'tis we who love old Em'ry most.

CHORUS.
To dear old Em'ry, our college home,
Our hearts will wander, though far we roam,
To her no sons can more faithful be:
Our Alma Mater, our Emory.

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