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Poem	Our college rhymes,--how light they seem, Like little ghosts of love's young dream That led our boyish hearts away From lectures and from books, to stray By flowery mead and flowing stream! There's nothing here, in form or theme, Of thought sublime or art supreme: We would not have the critic weigh Our college rhymes. Yet if, perchance, a slender beam Of feeling's glow or fancy's gleam Still lingers in the lines we lay At Alma Mater's feet today, The touch of Nature may redeem Our college rhymes.
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