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"My Hanna Lady," a song grown old;
It tells a story often told.
In 1901 we sang this song,
We sang it loud, we sang it long.

The teacher didn't like the tune,
But took us in the other room
And such a lecture you ne'er heard,
We all sat still without a word.

Till like a voice from another world
This parting thrust at us she hurled,
"If I mistake not, there are some
Who now are sitting in this room,
Who one day in their Junior year
Were the sole cause of many a tear."

This was all the teacher said.
Our eyes were wet, our hearts like lead,
And when we left, the tears did flow,
"Like Orange Cider,"
"On the Golden Shores of Sweet Long Ago."