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

Page 19 text:

THE REDWOOD. THE nSHER OF ST. PIERRi:. Thou art just, oh my God, Thou are holy, And Thy spirit rules over the sea; Thou contemnest not those who are lowly, When in prayer they appeal to Thee ; Then despise not my sore stricken nation. Turn Thine eyes of compassion on me. As I weep o ' er the sad desolation Of that sweet little isle of the sea. My heart, it is wounded and bleeding. And my utterance choked with grief, And my tears fall in sad, silent pleading At Thy throne, where I know there ' s relief. For my home has been ruined and wasted. Where my dear ones were watching for me, Where the joys of my childhood were tasted, — In that sweet, little land of the sea. I can see there my loved ones still waiting And sighing until my return, While my ship on the lone strand is grating. And my heart with affection doth burn ; — I can see them around the poor table. With their jests and their pranks of glee, ' Neath the quaint and the old-fashioned gable In the sweet little isle of the sea. But, alas ! the dread signal is given, And the angel of death passeth by And, begirt with the anger of heaven. Regards not the sob nor the sigh. A harvest of souls he is reaping. Some sinful, and some from sin free . And there ' s sobbing and sighing and weeping In that sweet little isle of the sea.

Page 18 text:

8 THE REDWOOD. they rushed on him,piit him on their shoulders and carried hiiu to the college gymnasium. Oil! What cheering and shouting there was in the dining room that evenin.g ' Speech! Speech ' Jim Defney! ' ' they cried. Jim arose and with a few well chosen words modestly told his audience that he would not for a moment claim the vic- tory of the day. It was all due to luck and to the daring of their little quarter. The captain then stood up and addressed the triumphant audience from his heart. Fellow students, Jim Defney has gained two victories to-day. He has won our football game for us, and greater than this, he has conquered himself. You all knoAV how ungrateful we have been to him, see how he pays us back. No one could blame him if he refused to help us out to- day, but he did not refuse ; he played, he won ! This is all I can say to-night, so let us all give three cheers for Jim Defney, who had courage enough to stand for his convictions, courage enough to forget past insults, and tact enough to win for us the most important game of the season. Hip! hip hurrah! ' There was a terrible shout for a few minutes and no one went out of that dining room after supper without a deep feeling of respect for the hero of the day, the dauntless Jim Defney. JOHN REGAN, ' 04. » ♦ « WEATHER FORECAST. Sunday : Fair, with only two flurries of study hall. Monday : A marked increase over Sunday ' s flurries. Tuesday: Heavy, darkclouds will be floating around the yard. Ye men of the tan-bark beware. Wednesday : Calm to-day ; strong indications say there will be a storm to-morrow after lunch. Thursday: Everything quiet in the morning. Along about noon things begin to look stormy for some of us. After lunch everything will be let loose. You are lucky if you don ' t get soaked. Friday : After yesterday ' s soaking, there is nothing left but fish and clear sailing. Saturday: Beware of dark clouds floating around to-day. Ye head-light bearers have a care. There is another storm scheduled for to-morrow after lunch. O. M. BUCKLER.

Page 20 text:

10 THE KEDWOOD. Above and below there ' s a rumble, Then a mighty and deafening roar Like the wild Titian ' s horrible grumble Or the waves as they dash on the shore. And the mountain-top angrily thundered, As if fires of hell were set free. And the home of my boyhood was plundered On that sweet little isle in the sea. Oh ! the sad, sick ' ning thoughts of the morrow, As I gazed on the bleak St. Pierre ! Oh! the pangs and the heart-rooted sorrow, As I heard the dread shouts of despair I All my fond hopes forever are broken, And chaos reigns over the lea. And scarcely remains there a token Of that sweet little isle of the sea! Alas, I am weeping and sighing, — For the dead, who have gone to their graves I I am counting my dear ones as dying And my tears mingle deep with the waves ; But they live, and they shall live forever, They are waiting and waiting for me. Where the bonds of our love naught will sever. On the shore of Eternity ' s sea. JOHN mORDAN, ' 05.