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| The Old Clock Tower |
Chimes for the Blue and White
For Oliver my son at Hillsdale
The old clock is a’chiming
From out the hilltop tower,
Ringing out for old and new
The changing of the hour.
Changing through the seasons
That swiftly come and go,
For Freshmen through to Seniors
And all who hear below.
Summer's in its fullness
The leaves have yet to fall
Peaches are now sweet and ripe
And corn is getting tall.
The finches are a'flocking
Yet to travel away
And the Grosbeak's fluid singing
Is lilting through the day.
The constant measure is beating
For those young hearts and true,
Who sojourn to the mullioned halls
To wear the white and blue.
With high spirits and fresh antics,
New faces will appear,
But Hillsdale unperturbed will greet,
Unchanged, the coming year.
The old clock is a’chiming
From out the hilltop tower,
Ringing out for old and new
The changing of the hour.
Changing through the seasons
That swiftly come and go,
For Freshmen through to Seniors
And all who hear below.
Summer's in its fullness
The leaves have yet to fall
Peaches are now sweet and ripe
And corn is getting tall.
The finches are a'flocking
Yet to travel away
And the Grosbeak's fluid singing
Is lilting through the day.
The constant measure is beating
For those young hearts and true,
Who sojourn to the mullioned halls
To wear the white and blue.
With high spirits and fresh antics,
New faces will appear,
But Hillsdale unperturbed will greet,
Unchanged, the coming year.
