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by October's changing frost and heat,
 * The ivy flames upon the gray old walls,
 * Or, whirled by sudden, fitful breezes, falls

In little crimson showers at our feet; Impetuous Spring and lingering Autumn meet
 * On these wide lawns and in the echoing halls,
 * For Summer with its golden bounty calls

To hearts that still with youth and promise beat.

These Norman towers uplifted to the sun
 * A nation's hope enshrine, a nation's pride,

And one can scarcely look unmoved upon
 * The nation's youth now gathering to their side,

So great the future to be lost or won—
 * So sweet the siren-songs, so swift the tide!