Campion Jesuit High School - Knight Yearbook (Prairie du Chien, WI)

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Two . b Camp n Two rivers run by Cam n And hills engirdle it. And The grassy ramparts of the s Trees stand like watchful senti s. When summer smiles and winte owns The trees look down on little towns, On little towns where every street Quickly runs out of town to meet A score of happy little farms Nestling in the valley's arms. Here where broad-bosomed rivers r And, seaward, gliding, merge in one, Where sentry-trees on every hill Seem to call nightly, All is well ! Hill-cloistered, with a cross upon Her serene brow stands Campio Fifty years have come and gone Like water where the rivers ru Since Campion to this valley came. She came here in the sacred name Of that great Heart which made the ea: Suffer the young to come to Me! Her hope was, with God's help, to be, While seasons passed and came agai The nursing mother of strong men, The mother of men, of Catholic men. Two rivers run by Campiong From uplands in the north they run By cities, farms, and villages Down to their home in southern seas. They oft o'erbrim their channel-tops Destroying homes and byres and cro , And in their frantic liberty Leave trails of ruin to the sea. But, ah, far greater rivers run All day and night by Campion. Young streams of life here learn to , Along their destined paths to flow, In ways ordained by Heaven to be Blest courses to Eternity: Not bursting bounds and running wil By drifting carcasses defiled, And spreading ruin far and wide . In mad careers of foolish pride. 4 These are the rivers Campion With anxious gaze looks down upon, Rivers of life, young streams that may Choose noble or ignoble way. On perfumed evenings of June Under a white low-swinging moon, When the sun has plunged in golden wells Of light behind McGregor hills, And wheeling swifts have gone to rest Each in his hidden chimney-nest, And through the coulees in the hills ' re heard the plangent whip-poor-wills, When all the playing-fields are still But for the ryhthmical and shrill Thin choruses of katydids Upon their grassy coverlids, On such calm evenings Campion seems Sunk deep in prayer and wistful dreams. A hundred windows point with light The deep black shadows of the night, Where paths of knowledge are pursued In eager or reluctant mood. Or else, unlitten all the halls, The moon's white splendor, as it falls Upon the chapel-windows, turns To purple where the stained glass burnsg nd thro the open chapel-door he r' f the organ pour, hile s oung voices fill the air ith ho n and vesper prayer. On such an evening Campion Broods motherwise on every son. Lord, guide their souls so that their days May give Thee due incense of praise. Teach them to love the gracious ways In which Thy suns and stars fulfill Thy infinite, eternal will. Give them the graces to control The mean impulses of the soul. Mary protect! And Joseph guard! And saints and angels watch and ward! For them that are here, for them that are gone For living and dead, for every son, Prayers go up from Campion. Her joys and griefs, her hopes and fears, Are for the sons of her fifty years.

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