Tune: Wake! Freshman! Wake!
Midst green hills and meadows,
through sunlight and shadows,
The High School stands, to which we all are true;
A grand, stately building,
With broad lawns surrounding,
And over all the vault of Heaven's blue.

Chorus:

Dear old Gloversville !
Pride of her many valiant sons and daughters!
When out on life's ocean,
With hearts of devotion,
We'll think of thee, and of our vict'ries won.
For years we labor,
In which we endeavor
The honor of our school to e'er uphold.
In foot-ball or track-work,
In study or class-work,
The thought of her doth ever make us bold.
But when all's completed,
And glad years have fleeted
Then we from Alma Mater dear must part;
But far though we wander,
And much though we ponder,
Her teachings must remain in every heart.

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