Lost Songs of Old Dartmouth

Men of Dartmouth

Men of Dartmouth, give a rouse For the College on the hill For the Lone Pine above her And the loyal sons who love her Give a rouse, give a rouse, with a will For the sons of old Dartmouth The sturdy sons of Dartmouth Tho’ ‘round the girdled earth they roam Her spell on them remains They have the still North in their hearts The hill winds in their veins And the granite of New Hampshire In their muscles and their brains And the granite of New Hampshire In their muscles and their brains

They were mighty men of old That she nurtured at her side Till like Vikings they went forth From the lone and silent North And they strove and wrought and they died But the sons of old Dartmouth The laurelled sons of Dartmouth The Mother keeps them in her heart And guides their altar flame The still North remembers them The hill winds know their name And the granite of New Hampshire Keeps the record of their fame And the granite of New Hampshire Keeps the record of their fame

Men of Dartmouth, set a watch Lest the old traditions fail Stand as brother stands by brother Dare a deed for the old Mother Greet the world, from the hills, with a hail For the sons of Old Dartmouth The loyal sons of Dartmouth Around the world they keep for her Their old chivalric faith They have the still North in their souls The hill winds in their breath And the granite of New Hampshire Is made part of them till death And the granite of New Hampshire Is made part of them till death

Eleazar Wheelock

Oh, Eleazar Wheelock was a very pious man; He went into the wilderness to teach the Indian, With a gradus and a Parnassum, a Bible, and a drum, And five hundred gallons of New England rum.

Fill the bowl up! Fill the bowl up! Drink to Eleazar And his primitive Alcazar Where he mixed drinks for the heathen, In the goodness of his soul. The big chief that met him was the sachem of the Wah-hoo-wahs. If he was not the big chief, there was never one you saw who was; He had tobacco by the cord, ten squaws, and more to come, But he never yet had tasted of New England rum.

Eleazar and the chief harangued and gesticulated; They founded Dartmouth College and the big chief matriculated. Eleazar was the faculty and the whole curriculum Was five hundred gallons of New England rum.

Dear Old Dartmouth

We will shout Wah-hoo-wah We will shout for old Dartmouth Once again at her feet We another vict’ry lay We will shout Wah-hoo-wah Strong her fame we are building

For it’s Dartmouth’s Day Dear old Dartmouth Dear old Dartmouth Bless her name

Whether in defeat or vict’ry We are loyal just the same Then we’ll sing to dear old Dartmouth ‘Tis for her we fight for fame And we’ll shout her praises loud in ev’ry land Dear old Dartmouth bless her name

Pea-Green Freshmen

Where, O where are the pea-green freshmen? (3 times) Safe at last in the soph’more class. They’ve gone out from Pollard’s smut class. (3 times) Safe at last in the soph’more class.

Where, O where are the gay young soph’mores? (3 times) Safe at last in the junior class. They’ve gone out from Fergies’s physics. (3 times) Safe at last in the junior class.

Where, O where are the drunken juniors? (3 times) Safe at last in the senior class. They’ve gone out from Foley’s hist’ry. (3 times) Safe at last in the senior class.

Where, O where are the Grand Old Seniors? (3 times) Safe at last in the wide, wide world. They’ve gone out from their Alma Mater. (3 times) Safe at last in the wide, wide world.

Where, O where are the funny, funny faculty? (3 times) Safe at last in their trundle beds. They’ve come back from Leb and the Junction. (3 times) Safe at last in their trundle beds.

A Son of a Gun

I wish I had a barrel of rum and sugar, three hundred pound; I’d put it in the College bell and stir it ‘round and ‘round, Let ev’ry honest fellow drink his glass of hearty cheer, For I’m a student of old Dartmouth and a son of a gun for beer.

(Chorus) I’m a son of a, son of a, son of a, son of a, son of a gun for beer. I’m a son of a, son of a, son of a, son of a, son of a gun for beer. Like ev’ry honest fellow I like my whiskey clear, For I’m a student of old Dartmouth and a son of a gun for beer.

And if I had a daughter, sir, I’d dress her up in green; And put her on the campus to coach the freshman team. And if I had a son, sir, I’ll tell you what he’d do. He would yell “to Hell with Harvard” like his daddy used to do.

(Chorus)

As the Backs Go Tearing By

As the backs go tearing by On their way to do or die Many sighs and many tears, Mingle with the Harvard cheers, As the backs go tearing by Making gain on steady gain Echo swells the sweet refrain Dartmouth’s going to win today Dartmouth’s going to win today As the backs go tearing by.

Dartmouth’s in Town Again

Dartmouth’s in town again, Team, Team, Team, Echo the old refrain, Team, Team, Team. Dartmouth for you we sing, Dartmouth the echoes ring, Dartmouth we cheer you. Wah Who Wah Who Wah! Down where the men in Green, Play on play, Are fighting like Dartmouth men; We have the Dartmouth team, And say, Dartmouth’s in town again.

Eleazar Wheelock Must Be Turning In His Grave

Eleazar Wheelock must be turning in his grave Oh, Eleazar Wheelock must be turning in his grave Oh, Eleazar Wheelock must be turning in his grave As we go marching on

Glory, glory to old Dartmouth Glory, glory to old Dartmouth Glory, glory to old Dartmouth For this is Dartmouth’s day

Dartmouth Undying

Dartmouth, there is no music for our singing No words to bear the burden of our praise Yet how can we be silent and remember The splendor and fullness of her days Who can forget her soft September sunsets Who can forget those hours that passed like dreams? The long cool shadows floating on the campus The drifting beauty where the twighlight streams?