Do you think, O true friend! who for e'en a short while,
Have helped a young student with deed, word, or smile,
That his memory, howe'er distracted or vexed,
Will drop out your name, in this world, or the next?
Among the good angels of earth you are classed,
You who helped us along in our way through the past!
Forward march! though that past lies in burial lands,
We must toil in the future, with heads, hearts, and hands;
Forward march! is the order that comes from on high,
And rules the great college that graces the sky!