"Song to Old Union" is the alma mater

Alma mater

Alma mater , pronounced ), was used in ancient Rome as a title for various mother goddesses, especially Ceres or Cybele, and in Christianity for the Virgin Mary.-General term:...

 of Union College

Union College

Union College is a private, non-denominational liberal arts college located in Schenectady, New York, United States. Founded in 1795, it was the first institution of higher learning chartered by the New York State Board of Regents. In the 19th century, it became the "Mother of Fraternities", as...

 in Schenectady, New York

New York

New York is a state in the Northeastern region of the United States. It is the nation's third most populous state. New York is bordered by New Jersey and Pennsylvania to the south, and by Connecticut, Massachusetts and Vermont to the east...

. It was written by Fitz Hugh Ludlow

Fitz Hugh Ludlow

Fitz Hugh Ludlow, sometimes seen as “Fitzhugh Ludlow,” was an American author, journalist, and explorer; best-known for his autobiographical book The Hasheesh Eater ....

for Union's 1856 commencement ceremonies. It is sung each year at graduation, although it is the rare student or alumnus who knows more than the first verse and chorus.

The "brook that bounds," praised in the first verse, is Hans Groot's
Kill, a scenic stream that cuts through the secluded Jackson's Garden at
the north side of the campus.

Lyrics

(source: Union College commencement pamphlet, July 23, 1856)
And sing of the brave adorning,

That Phoebus weaves from his laurel leaves

At the golden gates of Morning;

But the brook that bounds through Union's grounds

Gleams bright as the Delphic water,

And a prize as fair as a god may wear,

Is a dip from our Alma Mater!



CHORUS:

Then here's to thee, the brave and free,

Old Union smiling o'er us;

And for many a day, as thy walls grow gray,

May they ring with thy children's chorus.



Could our praises throng on the waves of song,

Like an Orient fleet gem-bringing,

We would bear to thee the argosy,

And crown thee with pearls of singing;

But thy smile beams down beneath a crown

Whose glory asks no other;

We gather it not from the green sea-grot --

'Tis the love we bear our mother!



CHORUS



Let the joy that falls from thy dear old walls,

Unchanged, brave Time's on-darting,

And our only tear falls once a year

On hands that clasp ere parting;

And when other throngs shall sing thy songs,

And their spell once hath bound us,

Our faded hours shall revive their flowers,

And the Past shall live around us.