University of San Francisco - USF Don Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

Page 17 text:

a soxg of run road 15 Under the driving wheels; and though He’d lived and died a common Bo, Somehow I like to feel That somewhere in the realms of light Life's failures and life’s faults despite. Mis vagrant soul found rest that night, Mis island—and Cecile.

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14 THE IGNAT I AN The Autumn leaves are brown and sere; And all the paths that brought us near Are fading off; it seems Our Island home will be the bars Whereon the foam of Cosmic wars Breaks from the guidons of the stars; 111 find you only there. Oh, Life has been a farce to me That turns at last to tragedy: I feel it isn’t long to be And I don’t even care.” Say, he was right, believe me. Bo; I learned the lesson long ago, And wonder why it is I go; What’s born in the bone Is measure of the blood, they say. Who? Harvard? Oh, he went away, I guess I’ll go myself some day With lots of them I’ve known. We hopped the freight for Chi one night, And I remember now how white His face was, and the fever’s light Was throbbing in his eyes; Then, Holy Smoke, how cold it grew. While grim we clung with fingers blue, Across the rods, a foot or two Above the snow-hid ties. For hours that were a space of Hell, A horror Dante couldn't tell. Half-frozen by the tempest’s swell, We still hung grimly on; Till, out across the flashing snow, I saw the lights of Buffalo: I turned my head to tell him so— And Harvard—he was gone; Gone as a thousand others go.

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16 THE IGA ATI. IX It is with feelings of deep appreciation that, as President of St. Ignatius College, I accept the dedication of the present issue of The Ioxatiw. The labors of the youthful authors are as the returns of a pleasing harvest to the master of the field. Pius L. Moore, S. L President.