Bells are ringing, bells are ringing
Time upon its way is winging
We must hasten to our work,
See that tasks we do not shirk
Strict the life that we must lead,
Instant answer give at need,
Penetrate the land of learning,
Though our hearts for fields are yearning.
Pass the watchword to the faithful,
Living stones of God’s own temple,
“Ut prosim!” that we may fashion,
All our lives to serve the nation.

With the mountain breezes blending
Echoes of our play are sending
Happy notes: the dun kites wheeling
Wonder at the blows we’re dealing!
With cries of joy the welkin rings
As at our foes the school team flings
Defiance, and a steady roar
Chants “S.P.S for evermore”.
Pass the watchword to the heeding,
As to victory we’re speeding
“Ut prosim!” quit you like men,
And scotch all evil in its den.

Comrades on the field are we
Comrades in the class to be,
And in all the daily round
Comradeship must still must be found.
Each to each can lend a hand,
Each for truth and honour stand,
Learn to take life’s ups and downs
Learn to disregard the wounds.
Pass the watchword to the brave,
Let us not for money crave,
“Ut prosim” my golden deed
To help another in his need.

Down the avenue of years
Oft comes a thought too sad for tears
Of the happy care-free days,
Of the joyous heedless ways,
Of a youth we valued not
Of a youth that’s never forgot.
Wrecks of time bestrew our path,
Much we’ve lost that was most worth,
This will now dispel our gloom,
To meet a friend we knew at school.
Pass the watchword to the lead,
Pass it to the hearts that feel;
“Ut prosim!” our school commands,
Let us do what she demands.