University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA)

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THE REDWOOD. 13 the: builders of the west. The night is done; on wings of mountain gale The roseate dawn appears; refulgent hurled O ' er hillock, stream and woodland, poppied vale New light streams ' blazon all the western world. The azure-vaulted dome, with golden gleams, The wildering oats, the scented fields that bend Their wild flowers to the wind, the wandering streams That curl ' tween grassy banks and silver blend, And surging meet the sea, the woody hills, O ' er slopes green terraced round, the dewy sod, The woodland choristers and purling rills Betoke another Eden, land of God. The light-orb training radiant leaves the East And o ' er the Heaven-blest race is Nature ' s wand Of peace extended by her Sun-god priest Waking to fruitage all the docile land. The people in the Hesperian air Unruffled take the tenor of th eir way, In their rude fashioned hamlets free from care And rule, know none they must obey. Yes ' twas not liberty, for government Is freedom ' s guardian, and when a band Of plundering foes, like Norland winds ' descent, Torrential, blazing swept upon the land, The golden sunset changed to tongued fire. And clouds of black ' ning fumes took forms of gnomes, That reveled as at Nineveh and Tyre, In dire destruction, watching crumbling homes: As oaks are shattered in the forests sear,

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17 THE REDWOOD. Jack. Well you are the limit, to want to shake hands with that fellow, after the way he treated you, he at length burst out. ' ' You see, I could afford to be generous, said Jack, fori had him in my power and besides I don ' t want any enemies in the squad, for nothing is so demoralizing. Then he modestly changed the subject by thanking his rescuer from the bottom of his heart. The Freshman turned the thanks aside with a laugh and asked if, as Captain, Jack would keep an eye on his playing. I desire to make the team, he said, and shall do all in my power to deserve the honor. Yes, said Jack, you are a promising candidate, but, ex- cuse me, what ' s your name? My name is Victor Arden. Any relation to Bob Arden of Bakersfield? Yes, I ' m Bob Arden ' s brother. John M. Regan, ' 04.

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14 THE REDWOOD. Their princes fell — to them forever lost One prince they knew not; lingered still the fear Lest wrath should claim another holocaust. O West-land ! weep no more, soon shalt thou be A mighty state, for comes the word of God. Redman rejoice ! thine oft wished liberty Shall be no longer dreamed; the ruling rod Another Aaron now shall wield. Where gloom In the long past had shadowed brightness still, A wondrous peace now holds; from Heaven ' s dome A breath wafts spirit-like o ' er vale and hill; As child ' s soft touch a mother ' s grief, His grace Subdues the waves, tempestuous, hopeless, dark. The Redman hears. Like Israel ' s golden ark The Host is born from southland to the north; The Astec kneels and Paganism falls. O ' er crumbling idols, brownrobed marching forth, No manna falling save the grace of God, No star to guide save Faith, the abysmal deep Of wrong unfeared, the dim ways safely trod, Recalling men from Lethe ' s darkling sleep, A hero brotherhood with lifted hand. Armed with the crucifix, and holy love. Regenerate and bless a happy land. The Holy Spirit opes the realms above. And Heaven seems on earth; the forest yields, The sod is broke, the savage tills the soil. And nature, bounteous mother thrives the fields. No more from fear of raids strong men recoil; For gathered are they in their Mission homes, All goods for all in justice — social dream. Here cool arroyos, there Pacific foams