Finding the School without a flag or a song, and being himself a fine hymn writer, Cyril Argentine Alington, (Headmaster 1908-1916), commissioned the former and wrote the latter in Latin. The School Song is sung to the music of W.H. Moore (Master 1905-1933), with a traditional foot stamp between the repeated refrain:
Rex Edwarde, te canamus
Nec, sodales, sileamus
Mente prosequamur grata
Regem et reginam,
Fautricemque amoena prata
Resonent Sabrinam. Floreat Salopia.
Non tacendumst hic priorum
Plenam vitam huic honorum,
Illius nec nomen turpis
Qui humanae docet stirpis
Unde sit origo. Floreat Salopia.
Ceteri dum magistrorum
Lugent breve fatum,
Fas iactare Informatorum
Nostra tum iubente nympha
(Rudis forte si sis)
Exardebat Cami lympha,
Exardebat Isis. Floreat Salopia.
Nimiis stipata turbis
Annis plus trecenis,
Sedem schola liquit urbis
Nescit studium mutari,
Quique alumnos pridem
Nominis amor praeclari
Nos exercet idem. Floreat Salopia.
Editique caro colle
Matri quam amamus
Arte, libro, remo, folle
Sic futuros hic per annos
Et per ultimos Britannos
Nomen celebretur. Floreat Salopia.
(Translated by Mark Mortimer, Master 1958-1994):
To King Edward from the loyal
sons of his foundation
hymns are due, and to his royal
Let us, friends, acknowledge proudly
king and queen as founders,
and with Hail Sabrina! loudly
fill the fields around us. Floreat Salopia!
Next be praise to those accorded
who were here before us,
one who crowned a life much lauded
with a death more glorious,
and another (ever splendid
his renown) who teaches
humankind from whence descended
theirs and every species. Floreat Salopia!
Others mourn headmasters plundered
almost ere they've seen them:
we boast three who spanned a hundred
years and more between them.
In their day Salopian learning
(all must know the story)
set both Cam and Isis burning
with Sabrina's glory. Floreat Salopia!
Scholars long by cramps vexatious
cabin'd and frustrated
from their town to fields more spacious
Sites may change, but not ambition:
ours has never faltered;
and our forebears' high tradition
we remain unaltered. Floreat Salopia!
On our hill to serve our Mother
fame through art we'll give her,
fame in learning, as we love her,
fame on field and river.
Praise on praise be hers, and never
may we fail to seek it,
praise that shall be heard wherever
British tongues can speak it. Floreat Salopia!