St Johns College - Ozanam Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

Page 36 text:

Regina JVIarty1-um By MARVIN SAUPPE 0 Virgin Queen, above all virgins blest, Of whom, on bleak and cold December morn, The Son of God, the Lord of all, was born! O Virgin fair, upon whose lily-breast The King of kings in ecstasy could restg Mother, whose heart at last was racked and torn And made co-sufferer with Christ to mourn Our sin, and all but mount the gibbet's crest! When sin would lure, O Mother, haste to me And save a soul redeemed so pricelessly. Let no one say that thy all-saving aid Was e'er denied when I to thee have prayedg So that, when life's long iitful dream is o'er, I may with thee praise God forever more.

Page 35 text:

Mary, My Mother By NICHOLAS j. KELLY O Mary, Mother fair, To whose most holy care We are entrusted. Guide Us sinners to thy side That we may dwell with thee 0 Mary, Mother pure, Let us not seek the lure Of empty joyg but plead That we may always heed Thy voice, and Hy to thee. 0 Mary, Mother dear, Dispel our every fear, And heav'n1y comforts send, That, when our life shall end, We may go straight to thee.

Page 37 text:

Merlin Struts His Stuff By GERALD M. SULLIVAN The day of celebration had arrived. The streets of Camelot were packed with merry-makers who filled the air with dust and the sounds of revelry. Flags were draped over balcony railsg streamers extended over the whole width of the road. Parking space was at a premium, for every one with an ounce of patriotism or a liking for egg-nog had come to the city to wit- ness the crowning of Arthur Rex, the man who had delivered Britain from tyranny and-most wonderful of all- had made eggs palatable by inventing egg-nog. Friends and enemies of the Arthurian regime, all alike were mixed in a heterogeneous mass of heaving, pushing humanity. One face alone was missing from that huge assembly. Merlin the friend of Arthur, and the most famous jug- gler and magician of his day, was un- able to be present. Due to his per- sonal interest in the events which had raised Arthur to the throne, he had been unable to practice any new tricks for the mystification of the public during his approaching engagement on the Plantagenet Vaudeville Cir- cuit. Hence it was extremely neces- sary that he go somewhere, far from the maddening crowd to prepare a new act. This meant a slight financial loss to Merlin as he was accustomed, on such gala days, to sit behind his lit- tle green table, and there match his wits and quickness of hand against the gullibility of the general public. Now, however, we find him in his summer cottage by the sea, busily at work, posed before his mirror, he is rehearsing his pattern and studying the rhetorical effects. Here we must leave him for awhile and return to Arthur, that gallant gentleman who is so soon to be embroiled in a highly mysterious and equally dangerous in- trigue. As we have hinted before, not all those who visited Camelot on that oc- casion were motived by love for Ar- thur. The abdication and subsequent death of the old tyrant were too fresh in the minds of the 1atter's friends that they should readily forgive one whom they regarded as an usurper and an upstart. The son and heir-appar- ent of the old king was especially in- terested in a possible return of the ancient regime, and being a crafty rogue and of pleasing personality he had no lack of followers. In appearance he was rather hand- someg large and well set up he gave no outward show of the jealousy and hatred that was gnawing at his vitals, and yet an observant person might re- mark that the associates of his youth had had a reason in mind when they conferred upon him the nickname, Bill, the Black Knight. Undoubt- edly there was something in his char- acter, something shameful which he had been unable to conceal from the companions of his boyhood. Thus we have the setting of our tale, Merlin, the most powerful friend of Arthur, absent at an important date in the life of the nationg Bill, the Black Knight, concealing his chagrin beneath a mask of innocence and good-fellowship. Surely the clouds of adversity are piling up in the skies of the luckless Arthur.