Girls of the college, girls of the college,
Girls of the games club who stand here today,
Stiff is our climb up the steep hill of knowledge,
Stiff, too, our climb up the stout hill of play.
Nothing in life’s to be won without trying
Strength of the body and vigour of soul.
Old Father Tempus is flying, is flying;
Let us fly after and win to our goal.
Follow on, follow on, follow on, follow on, follow on.
Let’s follow the old college cry,
For it’s “Facta non Verba” for aye.
Out in the future, the dark world before us,
Dim days appear through a shimmer of gold;
Shall we not picture, as years gather o’er us,
Dear girl faces we loved so of old;
Out of the darkness they throng forth to meet us,
Calling us softly by old school names:
Bright eyes awaken with laughter to greet us,
How we shall love them, the girls of the games.
Follow on, follow on, follow on, follow on, follow on,
Let’s follow the old college cry.
For it’s “Facta non verba” for aye.