A poem by Joan Grove ('53) published in
the May 20, 1950, issue of The Collegian:
I used to stand atop a hill
And proudly guard the scenes around.
I proudly guarded all I saw
And never even made a sound.
The students climbed my steps each day;
Sometimes it took a lot of breath.
Now they no longer clim the steps.
They find that I am still as death.
It must have been a thrilling sight
To stand below and watch the fire.
The flames were blue and red and orange.
I burned just like a funeral pyre.
I will be built again, that's true,
But not just as I was before.
The steps will always be there though,
And lead up to an open door.
My memory shall always live
In hearts of those who climbed the hill.
It cannot be destroyed, that's true.
I will be built again! I will!
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This page was constructed by Terry Quiett. Questions, comments, and possible additions or omissions should be addressed to the Center for Academic Technology.