School Song
High on the hill where the mist comes down, Above the lake and the ancient town, There stands a school with her gates flung wide — Hillwood, our Hillwood, our joy and pride. Sing for the years that have gone before, Sing for the girls at the open door, Sing for the ones who are yet to come, Hillwood, our Hillwood, our second home. Not for the prize and not for the name, Not for the sound of a passing fame, But for the truth that we hold in view — Hillwood, our Hillwood, we follow you.
School Song
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