Laurels, fresh lau­rels,
For the Sun­day School we bring;
They will bloom in fade­less ver­dure
Through a calm eter­nal spring;
Then glad­ly hail with a pure de­light,
Oh, hail our beau­ti­ful wreath so bright;
Laurels, Fresh Lau­rels,
For the Sun­day School,
For the Sun­day School,
Lau­rels, Fresh Lau­rels,
For the Sun­day School we bring.

Laurels, Fresh Lau­rels,
For the Sun­day School to wear;
All may win the precious garland,
All the flaming crown may wear;
The smile of hope and the dew of prayer,
Has made this beau­ti­ful wreath so fair.
Laurels, Fresh Lau­rels,
For the Sun­day School,
For the Sun­day School,
Lau­rels, Fresh Lau­rels,
For the Sun­day School to wear.

Laurels, Fresh Lau­rels,
Then awake the song anew.
They will make you good and gentle,
You will love and praise them, too;
Oh, meet in Hea­ven the heart so true,
That twined the beau­ti­ful wreath for you.
Lau­rels, Fresh Lau­rels,
Then awake the song,
Then awake the song.
Laurels, Fresh Lau­rels,
Then awake the song so new.