When the evening shades are falling, o'er the mountains clear and grey,
And the breezes slightly rustling, sound so very far away.
When you dare not break the silence, and the air is sweet and clear,
Then there comes in hallowed mem'ries thoughts of Dear Old Rensselaer,
Thoughts of Dear Old Rensselaer.
When the moon in golden splendor, liquid light pours out and down,
And our daily count we render, to ourselves and jot it down.
When the stars shine out before us, silent pale, and still and clear,
Then there mingles with out thoughts again thoughts of Dear Old Rensselaer,
Thoughts of Dear Old Rensselaer.
When the skies their floods are pouring, and the night is black and drear,
And the angry winds are roaring 'til the stars shrink back in fear,
Yet we know our faith is holding, holding back the floods and fear,
And we send our thanks back homeward, back to Dear Old Rensselaer,
Back to Dear Old Rensselaer.