On the western side of Freetown upon an ancient site
Where a great and massive building stands a witness to the light
There lives a band of comrades true a band that's ne`er been sent
Since the fathers to the old boys gave the glorious name Regent.
Live forever, sundered never, faltering never, grammar school
Live forever, sundered never, Regentonian true school
School, school, school, school, school
God bless our grammar school.
When the Old Boys rally round us and tell of what has been
They may urge us to more study they must meet us on the green
To our well-loved alma-mater we every one shall cling
And year by year in deeper tones more fervently shall sing.
When we're marching home in glory and we've beaten them six nil
Or the telegraph's a hundred up and the captains batting still
When the flag flies for a triumph that the good old school has won
Then gladly let the chorus rise and sound it every one.
Oh! Tis not the nerve or sinew or learning store alone
That the school upon her sons bestow which stamps them for her own
Tis manhood's gleams in boyish eyes steadfast and true and keen
A heart that never quailed at need: the soul that ne'er was mean.