HERE'S TO WAKE FOREST
Oh, here's to Wake Forest, a glass of the finest,
Red, ruddy Rhenish filled up to the brim !
Her sons they are many, unrivaled by any;
With hearts o'erflowing we will sing her hymn.
Rah, Rah, Wake Forest Rah!
Old Alma Mater's sons we are;
We'll herald her story and die for her glory.
Old Gold and Black is ever waiving high.
As frosh we adore her, as sophs we explore her,
And carve our names upon her ancient walls ;
As juniors patrol her, as seniors extol her,
And weep to leave fore'er her sacred halls.
Though fortune forsake us and fate o'ertake us,
We'll ne'er forget our dear old college days,
And o'er memory's treasure we'll drink without measure,
And sing fore'er our Alma Mater's praise.
C. P. WEAVER.
DEAR OLD WAKE FOREST
Dear old Wake Forest! Dear old Wake Forest!
Thine is a noble name; Mystic they name to cheer;
Thine is a glorious fame, Be thou our guardian near,
Constant and true. Fore'er and aye.
We give thee of our praise, We bow before thy shrine,
Adore thy ancient days, Thy brow with bays entwine,
Sing thee our humble lays, All honor now be thine,
Mother so dear. Mother today.