From Alma Mater Vol. 2: The Northeast
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Today brought a Delta back to remember,
This blood rivalry fought the month of November,
He forgot not—the shed of Lafayette,
Lehigh as a whole—he’ll never forget.
Mountain Hawks come and fly as they will,
But they always will—return to The Hill,
As sure and as soon as the moon comes up,
These houses always—provide a full cup.
Lehigh’s Frat Houses are the home of Beirut,
Teams lose, not moan, like Dad’s, they root,
They root for more beer…then they root for beer,
Making Hawks like this Delta—stoked to be here.
Back on The Hill to drink wheat by the acre,
Like blue to the ‘bells, it is in his nature,
A member for ten years, but he is still rushing—
Through thrills with his friends before Lafayette’s crushing.
Still game for hundred-cup, and any Beirut game,
The blasts from the past is why this Delta came,
Such as Greek Week and his great bro tales,
Like having girls in his room—right after “Hotels.”
The drinks in his room were from a full liter,
Whenever guests arrived, the vodka was the greeter,
Lehigh’s party scene is called “Right to the Chase,”
In everybody’s room’s a Lehigh Bed Race.
In a school that’s as famed as PA’s Lehigh,
There comes responsibility and work knee high,
And for every failure and data faux pas,
There’s a successful party—like Delta’s Mardi Gras.
This is a hidden ivy, but we’re all in the stands,
Lehigh is the team that never disbands,
Alums like this Delta have permanent spots—
In Bethlehem, while every Leopard just rots.
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