Words by Talcott M. Banks, Class of 1890
Music by Frances Shackelton, Arranged by C.L. Safford, Class of 1941
Sheet Music
Lyrics
No need to sing the praises
Of any dusty town;
Where grand old Greylock raises
Its stately wooded crown,
We list to nature’s voices,
The music of her rills,
And each loyal heart rejoices
‘Neath the shadow of the hills.
When our college days are ended,
And we bid these walls farewell,
By doubts and fears attended,
Nor dare our fate to tell,
Thro’ earth’s dark and stormy weather,
One thought our mem’ry thrills,
Of the years we passed together
‘Neath the shadow of the hills.
And when to the Berkshire valley
Our feet shall turn again,
When Williams’ sons shall rally
From busy haunts of men,
When the same blue sky is o’er us,
One love our bosom fills,
Then we’ll shout some good old chorus
‘Neath the shadow of the hills.