A certain word, a thought remembered

Will stir within someday

We'll recall the nights of victory

Time has swept away.

We'll sing to you, our Alma Mater

When times like these are gone;

And bring to you our wreaths of glory

Of what we've said or done.

 

The night is ours, the battle's over;

We're proud of our Spartan men

And take heed to our warning

We'll return again

"With our shield or on it," is the code

Of our Spartan men.

So you tremble at our warning

We'll return again.