I see thee, dear “Old Penn,” in silhouette,

Far back along the road on which I came;

And memories, fragrant as the violet,

Are interwoven with thine honored name.

I’ve thrilled at “Harvard” and at good old “Yale,”

Proud have I been to meet their doughty men,

But in the world there’s just one nightingale—

My Alma Mater, my own honored “Penn.”