St Marys High School - Labarum Yearbook (Saginaw, MI)

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The Life of a Lilu BEFORE THE DAWN The shadowed earth lies hushed and still, Frail blossoms nod at rest, Close in yon hedge, a drowsy bird Stirs softly in her nest. Yet, in the east a blush of rose, The hope of daybreak brings, Bold chanticleer from yonder hill, Defiance proudly flings. Oh, happy as a mountain brook That sings along its way, My heart goes out in eager joy To greet the coming day. SUNRISE All radiant, with his sparkling gems That well befit a king, The sun ascends his lofty throne, 'Mid royal heralding. The music of the skylark's song, In silver showers fall, And just beyond the garden gate, Brown thrushes sweetly call. Day spreads her shim'ring mantle wide, O bliss without alloy! Life presses to its eager lips The brimming cup of joy! And richer than a royal bride, My robe with dew empearled, I stand where youth and gladness Rule the garden's wondrous world. NOONTIDE My fairest gifts I keep for thee, Oh, happy summer day, The while you speed with sandaled feet Along the flower strewn way! Perfume sweet as incense, In the temples famed of old, And faithful love I tender From a heart of rarest gold. Oh, could I only hold thee So that darkness ne'er might fall, But fold its velvet shadows Beyond the garden wall!

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Cfhe lDhitc-: A-QQ of the Lord. Novus Athleta Domini, -such is the beautiful titleethat is some- times applied to one of our great Saints, and it brings to the mind a mental picture of an athlete, a new White Athlete of the Lord in His militant Church. This luminous light was Dominic, Dominicus, which resembles so much the familiar title of Christ, Dominus. And what a striking likeness he bore to his Lord! The light brown hair, the oval face, the twain-cleft beard trace a similarity which gains perfection in the supernatural splendor of the eyes, and the straight line of the nose and forehead. Then there is a resemblance interiorly as well as exteriorly,-in the spirit breathing within, the perfection of character, the spotless purity, the love of prayer, the self-sacrifice! In a word, he was true to his name in all things. By meditating on the gospel of the Lord, by living the gospel of the Lord, and by preaching the gospel of the Lord, Dominicus became like unto the Lord, his Dominus. y The first great battle of this White Athlete was against the enemy of his own heart, the spirit of the flesh rebelling against the spirit of God. From earliest childhood, when the star shone on his forehead as he was held at the baptismal font down to the last sigh which he breathed in the presence of his brethren, we find no 'single moment when he did not belong to God. In his combats with the evil one, we find that he fought valiantly and conquered gloriously. His body was often covered with blood but his soul remained white. His pure virgin heart was aflame with thirst for the salvation of the world. This burning zeal for souls brings us to the second battle of Domi- nic's life, his conflict with the spirit of the world. He left the world to enter upon a life of solitude for a number of years. These years he spent in banishing from his heart all thoughts of the world or fame or glory. He accomplished this by fasting, and practices of penance, by long days and nights of prayer and contemplation. Study of his beloved books, too, found a large place in this part of his life. So assisted by divine grace he was raised to a high degree of perfection. Thus armed for his apostolic life and protected by the black cloak of penance, he left this beloved solitude, and once more stepped into the world to begin his third and last battle. He trampled on all that was worldly and that captivates worldlings regarding such trifles as so much dust. Standing thus with the world under his feet and trusting in God's grace he was free to do all things. For long years he fought. In imitation of David who, when he went forth to meet Goliath, carried with him five stones, St. Dominic used five Weapons,-he preached, he prayed, he wept, he worked miracles, he sent his companions into all parts of the World to carry on his work. Although the battle was long the victory was great and this great White Athlete went forth to his Lord with the radiance of the white shining star of his brow to become spiritualized in the hearts of his followers forever. - -Edward P. Simmet, '22 --.1

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EVENTIDE The blossoms nestling at my feet, Are nodding in their dreams, Beyond the oak tree's deepening glooms A fireiiy lantern gleams. My petals white are folded, With what content I may, To wait another morning That dances on its way. -Frances A. Ryan, '22 ii.T0. Life. With locks of gold today, Tomorrow, silver gray, Then blossom bald. Behold O man, thy future told! The Dandelion -Father Tabb. Life! What is it? A shadow on the garden wall, the brushing of a bird's wing against the boughg the murmur of a brook that sparkles on its way to the sea, a cloud that veils the horizon, now dark and threat- ening, now opening into vistas brilliant in silver and gold! It is the moan of the mother, the startled cry of the tiny babe, the yearning of the youth, the pensive dream of the maid. A day is so long, cries the child, awaiting tomorroW's holiday. A week is so long, complains the lad who plants in the earth a seed and impatiently looks for its grow- ing. A year is so long, breathes the maiden-uso long till I wear the raiment which shall mark me the spouse of my Heavenly King. Ten years are not long, cries the gray-haired man, lifting his head in pride, not long till I stand above my peers in the work that shall give me fame. Life is so short, sigh the aged, their faltering steps guided by the ten- der hand of son or daughter. Can it be I have lived so many years- many indeed in the counting but ah, so few in their passing? What is life? A time for eating and drinking, so make merry while ye may, answers the pagan. What is life? Precious time given us by God in which to save our souls, exclaims the Christian. Here today, tomorrow gone, today showing a smiling face, tomorrow masked with a frown. As evanescent as the gauzy wing of the butterfly, yet so sure and strong in its weaving that it may bear the soul to the very feet of God to abide for all eternity. Life! Mystery so profound that no mind can fathom it, so high, no human reach can grasp its meaning- one that poet and scientist have sought means of expressing and of un- ravelling. But the scientist in his quest drags us down into the mire, the poet lifts us to etherial heights.