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.
