We come, and go; but the BHS remains
Untouched by ages blight
In love and dignity she reigns,
Above our day and night,
Beneath her sway, the darkness flies.
And faith is born of fears
Oh! She is throned in memories
And beautified by years
Chorus
Come, let us honour her, Sons of today
Sons who return again, Sons growing grey
One song for all to sing, one prayer to pray
“Floreat, Alma Mater, Alma Mater!”
With each new moment’s tiny stir,
The sun doth rise and sink.
O’er men, whose hearts are bound to her.
By many a loving link,
They live and labour, near and far;
Alone, and in the throng
But where so-e’er these brothers are
They have one prayer and song.
Chorus
Come, let us honour her, Sons of today
Sons who return again, Sons growing grey
One song for all to sing, one prayer to pray
“Floreat Alma Mater, Alma Mater!”
Oh, who can count all that we owe
To this great School of ours?
The noble deed whose work survives,
Reminds us of her powers,
With praise for all who strive in truth
And pride in all who rest,
We worship her, who kissed their youth,
And made their manhood blest.
Chorus
Come, let us honour her, Sons of today
Sons who return again, Sons growing grey
One song for all to sing, one prayer to pray
“Floreat, Alma Mater, Alma Mater!”
