Where the Slippery Rock Creek wanders
With her sparkling falls,
There in stately grace and beauty,
Stand old S.R. Halls
Sing her praises, loud resounding,
Speed them on their way;
We'll be true to thee, Oh, S.R.
True for aye and aye.
All they halls the day in dying
Crowns with golden light,
And the morn with waking splendor
Greets thee in thy might
Long may you, our Alma Mater,
Shed your light abroad,
As your loyal sons and daughters
Live for you and God.