lease,
Basking in sunshine among the sweet flowers,
Whiling away the long, tedious hours.

[Illustration: KOSCIUSZKO GARDEN.]

From the St. Lawrence River to the Rio Grande,
From Puget's Sound to Maine's cold sand,
O'er the hilltops, through the valleys, never to lag,
Not a spot on this land but they've planted the flag.

* * * * *

The old village people--where are they,
That in the chapel met to pray?
The stalwart man and maiden mild,
The matron and the little child,

The son and sire side by side,
As to the village church they hied--
Some are gone and sweetly rest,
With their white hands folded on their breast.

Under the violet and the rose,
The autumn leaves and winter snows,
On the banks of the Hudson there to sleep,
While the moon and stars their vigils keep.

The man of God, with modest mien,
With faltering steps and looks serene,
As to the sacred desk they knelt
And poured forth what their spirits felt,

Their hearts went up with pure desire,
While on the altar burned the fire;
A few still linger on the shore.
Veterans of a holy war.

May this little brown house, of good constitution,
Built on the classic grounds of the old Revolution,
The Stars and the Stripes, the blue and cadet grey,
Be the last things to perish when time's passed away.

SUPPLEMENT.

_Lines addressed to the Fourth Class of '78-'79._

To the young gentlemen that are here with us now--
To you and the rest I make my best bow.
Now listen, young men; take heed what I say;
Your time is coming, it's not far away.

Be true to your trust and your old Alma Mater;
Lean firm on that arm, you'll need nothing better:
And to the young gentlemen of the Tenth Section,
Flee to the Fourth--in it there's protection.

Perhaps that will do, but the Ninth, I am told,
Will send the young gentlemen out in the cold.
There are three honest men of old cadet fame--
Phil, Math and Chem, I think is their name.

[Illustration: FLIRTATION PATH.
(Photographed by G. W. Pack.)]

These three honest fellows are all very bold,
And are sure to kick somebody out of the fold;
Then off goes the trimmings, and away goes the grey,
And then you are told to get out of the way.

Then you'll think of Flirtation and old Gee's rock,
And the place where you sat with your Sweet Four O'clock;
Then you'll think of the taffy made over the gas,