Chorus.

Air— "No possible doubt whatever," from "The Gondoliers" —(Sullivan).

But while we bend with the wise and bold,
Let's see that the shrine is shaded
From that wholly detestable sport for gold,
Which sends to the depths all that sweetness old,
The gladness and joy which can't be sold.
May the sweetness ne'er be faded.

A taste for sport combined with gold,
Would double sport up for ever.
Of that there can be no shadow of doubt,
No probable, possible shadow of doubt,
No possible doubt whatever.

We worship now at a nobler fane,
By sward where birch trees rustle.
On the field where they husband the golden grain,
Or altar of gold where they husband brain,
Or out on the turf where they scorn gold-gain,
Let us worship mind and muscle.

Chorus.
So raise a shout for battle stout,
And keenness in life's stern bustle,
And banish any shadow of doubt,
A probable, possible shadow of doubt
In worship of mind and muscle.