Trinity College, Kandy - School Song and Hymn

School Song and Hymn

School Song College Hymn
It's good to see the School we knew,
The land of youth and dream,
To greet again the rule we knew,
Before we took the stream;
Though long we've missed the sight of her,
Our hearts may not forget;
We've lost the old delight of her,
We keep her honour yet.

The stars and sounding vanities,
That half the crowd bewitch,
what are they but inanities,
To him that treads the pitch?
And where's the wealth, I'm wondering,
Could buy the cheers that roll,
When the last charge goes thundering,
Towards the twilight goal.

The men that tanned the hide of us,
Our daily foes and friends,
They shall not lose their pride of us,
However the journey ends.
Their voice to us who sing of it,
No more its message bears,
But the round world shall ring of it,
And all we are be theirs.

To speak of fame a venture is,
There's little here can bide,
But we may face the centuries,
And dare the deepening tide;
For though the dust that's a part of us,
To dust again be gone,
Yet here shall beat the heart of us,
The School we handed on.

We will honour yet the School we knew,
The best school of all;
We will honour yet the rule we knew,
Till the last bell call.
For working days or holidays.
And glad or melancholy days,
They were great days and jolly days,
At the best School of all.

Where river, lake and mountain meet,
Our boyhood's home surrounding,
A path behold for youthful feet,
The path of life abounding;
Still up it climbs by cliff and crag,
The mount of truth ascending,
Though oft thereon the pilgrim flag,
It leads to life unending.

Oh life is good, both here and now,
And good will be hereafter;
Brave boyhood's unbeclouded brow,
Pure eye and lightsome laughter,
Rich manhood's brain and arm of strength,
In master-purpose mating;
Ripe age, that lays him down at length,
With calm the trump-awaiting.

That joyous Trump! and can it be,
Life now life then excelleth?
The loveliest land that here we,
That where Immanuel dwelleth?
His servants Him shall serve, Tis writ
In revelation's pages;
For ever broader service fit.
Through ever brighter ages.

Then bravely brother, breast the path,
Nor list the voice alluring;
Triumphant ever sloth, the wrath
And scorn of man enduring,
Yet, constant serve with might and mind,
The school, the land that bore thee.
The slumber and the sin behind,
The Mount of Truth before thee.

Now unto Father, Spirit, Son,
The Deity Triunal,
The timeless throne when things are done,
The last the dread Tribunal,
The Mighty helping God, from whom
No force the saints can sever,
Our Savior in the Day of Doom,
Be Manhood's praise for ever.

Sir Henry Newbolt W. S. Senior

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