Their banner is flying,
They’re “victory” crying,
They’ll solve every problem in Euclid before ye—
Come from the rowing match,
Glee club, and merry catch,
Read for a class and the old College glory!
Ye Dons and Professors, arise from your slumbers,
Open your books,—set your studies in order—
The danger is pressing in spite of your numbers,
For the Blue Stockings are crossing the Border.