In a quaint old Jersey town,
That I've learned to call my own,
Stands a college that has long been known to fame;
Where the hardy ivy clings
To the walls of ancient stone,
Ever changing yet eternally the same.

(Chorus)
Alam Mater, Alma Mater,
Plucky college by the gentle Raritan,
You're the apple of my eye,
Brightest star in all the sky,
Rutgers College by the gentle Raritan.

When the Freshman young and green,
With his self-important mien,
Comes to add more knowledge to his little store;
But in just about a week,
He is feeling very meek,
For he's interviewed the warlike Sophomore.

(Chorus)

When the Junior year comes round,
There are some who can't be found,
Who enlisted with the Freshmen at the start;
For they thought it wrong to toil,
And their logic was not sound,
So the faculty and they were forced to part.

(Chorus)

But when in the Senior year,
Oh how wise they do appear,
Who have clung to plucky Rutgers all the way;
Who in Latin and in Greek,
And in football have no fear,
For in both they've scored their points on many a day.

(Chorus)

RETURN TO TRADITIONS AND EVENTS

HOME