The first letter of each line of this poem spells “Alma Airedales.” Starting from the bottom of the poem, the last letter of each line also spells “Alma Airedales.”
An Airedale rises to meet all challengers.
Looking for victory on the field of battle.
“Meet me in conquest,” he sends out the call.
And bravely they meet at the contest arena.
All the brave struggle on wood and on sod.
Into the fray, we will faint never more.
Ready we’ve made mind and body for war.
Eager we travel my comrades and I.
Destiny drives us and fills up our aura.
Alas let us sniff of victory’s sweet aroma.
Let us hear the sweet sound of victory’s drum.
Ere we win we will bow, we will rise ere we fall.
Send us now with a prayer to the battle arena.