Immaculata Academy - Lilium Convallium Yearbook (Portland, OR)

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. e key 10 thev'vv as a genius, though wh: evtce was a simple tine': ed mto a beautiful poetii aultless technique of Hogan: se, as great a pieceot L m of Gerontius even sun er of art, but I do belt; e Dream of Gerontiusisat ation to the afflicted. Itit eternal life. To usCatt 1e who believes in Godt va lit hteousness. We first me i now.- nth, on my brow, re, re. 1nd with what potentwur With what perfect natw' 1' me! :o thee. - prayersk- 't if their careers to 1th l: the thought of the HUD near 19 Is it not true that m i i i ' orwaxfran -t him WINS C HS XVC 3 shun the d Id given way, 109 now. 9 my stay, IS deftly frame 1 abyss' I I Came: C; LILIUM CONVALLIUM The assistants take up their chant: ttKyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleisonP These soothing words affect him deeply, and serve to brace him for the struggle. ttRouse thee, my fainting soul, and play the man; And through such waning span Of life and thought as still has to be trod, Prepare to meet thy God? Then. comes a submission and appeal to the Creator so beautiful, so tender as to sug- gest a spirits prayer rather than a man,s. ttSanctus fortis, Sanctus Deus, De profundus om te, Miserere, Judex meus, Parce mihi, Dominefi When, in reading Shakespeare, we chance upon Hamletts ttTo be or not to be? or ttWhat a piece of work is man? how apt we are to feel that the author of such wonderful words must have been inspired! No less should be our sentiment when we follow the death chant 0f Gerontius: ttI can no more; for now it comes again, That sense of ruin, which is worse than pain, That masterful negation and collapse . Of all that makes me man; as though I bent Over the dizzy brink Of some sheer infinite descent; Or worse, as though Down, down forever I was falling through The solid framework of created things, And needs must sink and sink Into the vast abyss? The epics of Homer and Vergil contain description of death that thrill us through and through. Shakespeare gives us men and women who die as gods and goddesses would die. ttMake death nroud to take you! he instructs his heroes. Immortal Dante weeps his whole soul out when Beatrice expires. Yet could anything be represented as more noble than the resignation of Gerontius? ttNovissima hora est; and I fain would sleep, The pain has wearied me Into Thy hands, 0 Lord, into Thy hands. . . 3i At last the river is forded, the gulf passed. The soul of Gerontius has flown from its earthly home. ttI went to sleep; and now I am refreshed? In the poem, we fly along with this intangible soul; we listen to its whisperings of wonderment; we mount with it the space of planets in an instantis time, and hear the voices of angels, singing in choir before Jehovah,s Throne. The verse here is beautifully expressive, and We can truly imagine ourselves in another world. ttSo much I know, not knowing how I know. That the vast universe, Where I have dwelt, Is quitting me, or I am quitting it. Or I 01' it is rushing on the Wings Of light or lightning on an onward course. And we e,en now are million miles apart? Finally the poet rushes us to the climax of the dream. Angel: ttWe have gained the stairs Which rise toward the presence-chamber; there A band of mighty angels keep the way On either side, and hymn the Incarnate God? 25

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LILIUM CONVALLIUM Cardinal Newmanis Dream of Gerontlus Truth seems to have been the stumbling block of the world Since Hula; btetglmilgnigs 2f Ihel; Some men found the truth; to others, God mereltully revealedl 1t telllecieof mangand mysterious truthedeath and the land bey9ndt-ift'rtllllatallllfllsplliilizzgloelglhitclgfll1711VVe have ever been set him to ar uin his final destination sc1en 1 ma y . - e u t -V 7 i trying to pee? thfough the fog-banks of the Stys and into that. undlscox' erteld CdOUiflljrhquH: whose bourn no traveler returns? tWthat is after death? question those in iel and. .tliai is heaveniw ponder those who have the light. But, iieye hlfth 110i 59911: nor 931 1931 ,'1191 flet hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive the thlngs that God has. prepaied . 01 those who love Him? And so, the poet may soar into the highest sphere of 1115 lmaglnatlon, the nhilosopher devle into the lowest depths of his reasoning mlnd, and not advance one JOt '2 1 , t 11, tion of the unknowable kingdom. . . t0Vt 13111::iflOthCeeIeourse of a generation or so, a genius will attempt to enlighten ns in regard to the hereafter. He will employ philosophy or imagination as the. key to the velled temple, and fail utterly to satisfy us in his explanation. There was a genius, though, who hlt upon the right solution, Cardinal Newman. The Cardinalis device was a 51mp1e one; merely the Scriptures and the Teaching of the Church that he shaped into a'beantlful poem, the Dream of Gerontius. And this poem, although it has not the faultless technlque of Homer, not the marvelous extent and arrangement of Dante, is, in a sense, as great a piece of literature as the Purgatorio or the Iliad. I do not say that the Dream 'of Gerontius even surpasses the Faust of Goethe or the Paradise Lost of Milton in matter of art, but I do believe that it carries a more valuable message to the soul of man. The Dream of Gerontius is a death song, promising recompense t0 the heavy-laden, giving consolation to the afflicted. It is a sublime poem, unique in its treatment of the greatest of themes, eternal life. To us Catholics there is a keen appreciation of its orthodoxy; yet to every one who believes in God it holds out its simple lesson. Gerontius is a man who has followed the path of righteousness. We first meet with him in the poem, whendeath is hovering above his couch. ttJesu, Mariaal am near to death, And thou art calling me; I know it nowe- Not by the token of this faltering breath, This chill at heart, this dampness on my brow, ,Tis this new feeling, never felt before, That I am going, that I am no more? Cardinal Newman was a true artist. How vividly, and with what potent words he de- scribes the dread summons at the door of Gerontius! With what perfect naturalness he blends this descriptive verse with broken prayer! ttJesu, have mercy! Mary, pray for me! Lover of souls! Great God, I look to thee. tTis death,e0 loving friends, your prayers!- titis he! . . f, It must often occur to men in the hurried course of their careers to think of death. On such occasions do they not generally either banish the thought of the unpleasant cer- tainty of death, or assure themselves of courage at the end? Is it not true that nearly all men fear death? And do not timid, strong, and careless ones alike wilt or wax frantic under the awful strain of dying? Gerontius is a strong man, and yet we find him fearful, full of awe at the approach of the death angel. He dreads to die, as we all dread it; wishing to pFO- long his mortal existence for no better reason than to shun the dark chasm ahead. ttI feel as though my very being had given way, As though I was no more a substance now. And could fall back on nought to be my stay, And turn no whither, but musttneeds decay And drop from out the universal framei Into that shapeless, scopeless, blank abyss, That utter nothingness, of which I came: This is it that has come to pass in me; 0 horror! tory. 24 a 'i0 a . mat iubmlSS t Sandus De W Misererei Parce ,. 'es care, W C ligajhahmf apt W9 3 ital! 50155 5M i ll call no mOI'EE 1 That sense of rum That masterful neg Of all that makes 1 Over the dizzy hr: 0t some sheer inf: Orworse, as thoug Down, down forev The solid framew And needs must st Into the vast abys homer and Vergil con yearegives us men an :t to take you! he i triceexpires. Yet co 'nulius? tthvissima hora The Pain has wea Lord, into Thy

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LILIUM CONVALLIUM We are greeted by the caressing sound of heavenly music. The soul 18 Judged. Soul: ttTake me away, and in the lowest deep There let me be, And there in hope the long night-watches keep, Told out for me. There, motionless and happy in my pain, Lone, not forlorn,- There will I sing my sad perpetual strain, Until the morn? Now to the triumph of the artisfs conception and rendition, we behold the soul of Gerontius wafted away; we hear the sacred promise of Godts angel to this tthappy, suffer.- ing soul. Angel: ttNow let the golden prison ope its gates, Making sweet music, as each fold revolves Upon its ready hinge. And ye great powers, Angels of Purgatory, receive from me My charge, a precious soul, until the day, When, from all bond and forfeiture released, - hkw- I shall reclalm it for the courts of light? .Qlt'shecould not pereuz hMONICA MORLEY,. t17. :ybuytfjred with ambitml Eielection. ahiscampaign. One Sat mks things looked darkt :mnfident and cheerful. :tyoutllmtn. Now I want Thats why youtre so blt st Yes, you are. Letts n0 tcss night. Many a time hntradicting, uBut he will The doctor assur dHresume his campaig :thsillness all the more eh a while she thoug Jglitter beautiful hair, CLASS ROOM. 26