To the tune of "A Son of a Gambolier"
Upon a hillside in a town
There stands a college old-
A college famed in history,
From hosts of stories told,
To teach the young idea to shoot,
It's worth its weight in gold,
It gathers from lands far and near
Its children to the fold.
Chorus:
Come join my humble ditty,
From Troy town I steer,
Like every honest fellow,
I drink my lager beer.
Like every honest fellow,
I never will go dry,
I'm a student from the Institute,
A son of old R.P.I.
A son of, a son of, a son of, a son of,
A son of old R.P.I.
A son of, a son of, a son of, a son of,
A son of old R.P.I.
Like every honest fellow,
I drink my whiskey clear,
I'm a moral wreck from the Polytech
And a hell of an engineer.
We students of the R.P.I.,
Are of a jolly kind,
And though we study hard at times
To cultivate the mind,
You'll always find us in for fun,
We're never left behind,
A happier crowd of fellows o'er
This earth you'll never find.
Chorus
The maidens sweet all smile on us,
As boys we pass them by,
The "cops" along the street all nod
And wink the other eye,
The people turn to look at us
And say: "Oh me! Oh my!"
There go those wicked college boys
From that bad R.P.I.
Chorus
The faculty at R.P.I.
Are, yea, a noble band;
For brains and intellectual worth
They're noted through the land.
The students honor all of them-
We trust them heart and hand-
They credit dear old Rensselaer,
Our alma mater grand.
Chorus
Come then, and let us all unite,
Lift all your glasses high,
And drink a toast to her we love,
Whose glories never die.
Then bring the "Cherry and the White"
And wave it to the cry-
The old Rah! Rah! Rensselaer,
Three cheers for R.P.I.
Chorus