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"Cedant Arma Togae."

Tune: "There is a tavern in the town."

I know a College in the town—in the town,
Where youths and maidens sit them down—sit them down
And learn from wisdom's very source
The things they need'nt know of course.

And every evening after dark—after dark,
The learned doctors there do spark—do spark,
And shed a gracious light around,
With voices sweet the walls resound.

Then some reluctant go to law—go to law,
Which is synonymous with bore—with bore,
And listen when they cannot sleep
To cautious words of wisdom deep.

But who is this that meets our gaze—meets our gaze,
Hedged round with transcendental rays—dental rays ?
With kindly look and portly mien,
Our largest College sage is seen.

Can this be one that hovers near—hovers near,
Who knows so much that he doth fear—he cloth fear
That sometime t'will discovered be,
So hides it in frivolity.

Another's slangy in the main—in the main,
Yet views us all with high disdain—high disdain;
Benighted savages are we,
From civilization lately he.

There's one who fills one's soul with awe—soul with awe;
Who does both Greek and Golf adore—Golf adore,
Who grapples with a rowdy floor,
By barricading girls before.

Fare thee well for we must leave thee,
Do not let this parting grieve thee
For the very dullest fool will sometimes pass;
So adieu, adieu, kind friends, adieu, adieu,
We can no longer stay with you—stay with you,
So we'll put our books on the very topmost shelf,
And go and seek for fame and wealth.