Now, how many of us knew that Fair Harvard the alma mater of Harvard University, is sung to the tune of "Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms"? I think maybe that piece of information was buried somewhere back in my brain, but I wasn't aware of it.
I came across the song this evening, and thought I should post it. Hell, it beats "Fight Fiercely, Harvard," doesn't it? Or does it?

FAIR HARVARD
(The Reverend Samuel Gilman, class of 1811)

Fair Harvard! thy sons to thy Jubilee throng,
And with blessings surrender thee o'er
By these festival rites, from the age that is past,
To the age that is waiting before.
O relic and type of our ancestors' worth
That hast long kept their memory warm,
First flow'r of their wilderness! Star of their night!
Calm rising thro' change and thro' storm.

To thy bow'rs we were led in the bloom of our youth,
From the home of our infantile years,
When our fathers had warn'd, and our mothers had pray'd,
And our sisters had blest thro' their tears.
Thou then wert our parent, the nurse of our soul;
We were molded to manhood by thee,
Till freighted with treasure thoughts, friendships and hopes,
Thou didst launch us on Destiny's sea.

When as pilgrims we come to revisit thy halls,
To what kindlings the season gives birth!
Thy shades are more soothing, thy sunlight more dear,
Than descend on less privileged earth.
For the good and the great, in their beautiful prime,
Thro' thy precincts have musingly trod,
As they girded their spirits or deepen'd the streams
That make glad the fair city of God.

Farewell! be thy destinies onward and bright!
To thy children the lesson still give,
With freedom to think, and with patience to bear,
And for right ever bravely to live.
Let not moss-covered error moor thee at its side,
As the world on truth's current glides by
Be the herald of light, and the bearer of love,
Till the stock of the Puritans die.

---

and the 1998 revision:

Fair Harvard! we join in thy Jubilee throng,
And with blessings surrender thee o'er
By these Festival-rites, from the Age that is past,
To the Age that is waiting before.
O Relic and Type of our ancestors' worth,
That hast long kept their memory warm,
First flow'r of their wilderness! Star of their night!
Calm rising thro' change and through storm.

Farewell! be thy destinies onward and bright!
To thy children the lesson still give,
With freedom to think, and with patience to bear,
And for Right ever bravely to live.
Let not moss-covered Error moor thee at its side,
As the world on Truth's current glides by,
Be the herald of Light, and the bearer of Love,
Till the stock of the Puritans die.


You might enjoy this article: "Fair Harvard": Irish Origin of the Tune, by W. H. Grattan Flood