Suspends, conditions, and too often drops.
Now Alma Mater swaps her cap and gown
For gayest garb, but the old lady fears
That giddy mortals at her dress may frown,
As not becoming to her many years.
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Not so, old girl, for thou art ever young;
Each rolling year adds but a tender grace
To that fair form from old New England sprung,
And fresher beauty to that grand old face.
Long mayst thou view with glowing pride
The grown-up boys, who in the days gone by
So long have nestled by thy kindly side,
And yearly to thy sheltering bosom fly.
Long may we call our Alma Mater fair,
Far may her risen grandeur spread,
And every class that leaves her tender care
Adds fresher laurels to her honored head!