Lawrence is the one who thinks He’s been our comrade long; His fav’rite stone, an “Opal” bright He’s blest with an “Arm strong.”

Sweet Genevieve has worked and toiled, Her honor’s justly won, And every teacher in our school Will say her work’s well “Dunn.”

And now there’s only one remains, He should have come before; His name is John, his hopes all lie In a corner grocery store.

And now, I’ve mentioned everyone, I hope no one feels slighted, But if one does, let him approach, His wrong will soon be righted.

At last your poet ends his lay, He’s nothing more to tell, But leaves the class of nineteen-one With blessing and farewell.