Read the lyrics to Kenyon's four traditional songs:
Philander Chase
Kokosing Farewell
The Thrill (Alma Mater)
Ninety-Nine
The first of Kenyon's goodly race
Was that great man Philander Chase;
He climbed the Hill and said a prayer,
And founded Kenyon College there.
He climbed the Hill and said a prayer,
And founded Kenyon College there.
He dug up stones, he chopped down trees,
He sailed across the stormy seas,
And begged at every noble's door,
And also that of Hannah More.
And begged at every noble's door,
And also that of Hannah More.
The King, the Queen, the Lords, the Earls,
They gave their crowns, they gave their pearls
Until Philander had enough
And hurried homeward with the stuff.
Until Philander had enough
And hurried homeward with the stuff.
He built the College, built the dam
He milked the cow, he smoked the ham,
He taught the classes, rang the bell,
And spanked the naughty freshmen well.
He taught the classes, rang the bell,
And spanked the naughty freshmen well.
And thus he worked with all his might
For Kenyon College, day and night;
And Kenyon's heart still holds a place
Of love for Old Philander Chase.
And Kenyon's heart still holds a place
Of love for Old Philander Chase.
Old Kenyon, we are like Kokosing,
Obedient to some strange spell,
Which urges us from all reposing;
Farewell, Old Kenyon,
Fare thee well.
And yet we are not like Kokosing,
Which beareth naught upon its swell
But foam of motion's own composing;
Farewell, Old Kenyon,
Fare thee well.
But when we are far from Kokosing,
We still shall hear a calling bell,
When round us evening shades are closing;
Farewell, Old Kenyon,
Fare thee well.
And see a river like Kokosing,
In meadows sweet with asphodel,
Where mem'ry dwells dear past supposing;
Farewell, Old Kenyon,
Fare thee well.
There is a thrill of spirit which love imparts
When turn our thoughts to Kenyon's glory;
Both old and young with single tongue
Unite to sing our Alma Mater's story.
Chorus:
Then let our songs ascend in unison!
Our loyal hearts avow no other.
It unifies, it never dies,
The love of Kenyon, our mother.
Thy beauty strikes a chord of harmony,
And lends us to our high endeavor;
Thy glorious name, thy spotless fame,
We'll cherish in our heart of hearts forever.
Come, classmates, fill your glasses,
Fill them with sparkling wine,
And then we'll drink together
A toast to Ninety-Nine;
And in the years before us,
What e'er our stations be,
With fondest recollections
We will remember thee.
Chorus:
Classmates, come, gather 'round
With ties of friendship bound;
Shout out in unison,
"Ninety-nine and Old Kenyon."
Our freshman year's a mem'ry,
Gone too, our sophomore,
And soon our friends and comrades
Will know us here no more;
But what's the use of grieving?
We've run our course full well,
And in the years before us
Our praises loud will swell.
Chorus