See the people on that stand?
That is Pom'roy's Concert band
And behind each music-rack
Sits a fulfledged cracker-jack!
Let's look at them, one by one,
and have a few minutes fun:
Serenely on his horn reclining
Rests the form of C.H. Vining
Next to him the money power,
Future banker, Ed. Bretthauer.
Hear the snare of John, the drummer!
Hear the flare of Jack, the plumber!
The clarinet of Billy Albrecht
Stirs a lover's heart like moonlight.

When you hear Harry Petersen,
'Tis like th chirping of the wren.
And the music of Mart Meyer
Cannot but our heart inspire.
Firm but gentle, clear and clean
Is the work of Fred Demien.
The force and vim of Walter vining
Almost blows out his horns gilt lining

The big bass drum, round and wide
Has the drummer in its "Heide".
The baritone makes Ed Sanquest
A vertable rhapsodist.
A better boy than Clarence Muse
You will find it hard to choose.
Jimmy Russell plays some solo
On his little piccololo
I'd like to bet that Don Trenary
Can almost blow to "Tipperary."

And Shorty Doyle is going strong,
No sir, with him there's nothing wrong!
And Albert Nieting - oh, He's gone.
The trombone of Anderson
Could lead a battalion;
Sounding out a clarion -
Why, it's a phenomenon!

Preacher Otto Ellefson
Sure can make that oboe moan,
Sing and whistle, screech and groan, Loud, or in an undertone;
Specially when he plays alone
He can stir a heart of stone
With that soft, celestial tone.

And permit me to allude
To two sons of Mr. Rude
They play with such aptitude,
Rise to such an altitude
It would be ingratitude
If the Pome-roy multitude
Ever should be cross or crude
To Theron and Leonard Rude.

Martin Schultz is hard to rhyme,
And I had an awful time
Thinking what to say of him
That would make you smile and grin;
But you know, he's good at play,
And that's all we need to say.

Could it be that I'm so rotten
That I really have forgotten
Mention of the biggest one,
Him who all this work has done?
No, I see, I have him down:
Big Bill Julius!- Here's your crown
Let us see you - to admire -
Make your bow - And now retire!

That, folks, is our concert band.
It's the finest in the land:
And I mean that, every letter,
There is none around that's better!
Always Johnny-on-the spot,
When it's cold or when it's hot,
Ever ready to bring joy
To hearts of Pomeroy
And they ne'er get tired or shaken,
'Cause they've got a "Ham" and "Bacon."