And hence we learn with reverence to esteem Of these frail houses, though the grave confines; Sophist may urge his cunning tests, and deem That they are earth;--but they are heavenly shrines. THE SIGN OF THE CROSS BY JOHN HENRY NEWMAN Whene’er across this sinful flesh of mine I draw the Holy Sign, All good thoughts stir within me, and renew Their slumbering strength divine; Till there springs up a courage high and true To suffer and to do. And who shall say, but hateful spirits around, For their brief hour unbound, Shudder to see, and wail their overthrow? While on far heathen ground Some lonely Saint hails the fresh odour, though Its source he cannot know? THE SON OF GOD BY CHARLES L. O’DONNELL, C.S.C. The fount of Mary’s joy Revealed now lies, For, lo, has not the Boy His Father’s eyes? TO ST. JOSEPH BY CHARLES L. O’DONNELL, C.S.C. St. Joseph, when the day was done And all your work put by, You saw the stars come one by one Out in the violet sky. You did not know the stars by name, But there sat at your knee One who had made the light and flame And all things bright that be. You heard with Him birds in the tree Twitter “Good-night” o’erhead,-- The Maker of the world must see His little ones to bed. Then when the darkness settled round, To Him your prayers were said; No wonder that your sleep was ground The angels loved to tread. THE DEAD MUSICIAN In memory of Brother Basil, Organist for half a century at Notre Dame BY CHARLES L. O’DONNELL, C.S.C. He was the player and the played upon, He was the actor and the acted on, Artist, and yet himself a substance wrought; God played on him as he upon the keys, Moving his soul to mightiest melodies Of lowly serving, hid austerities, And holy thought that our high dream out-tops,-- He was an organ where God kept the stops. Naught, naught Of all he gave us came so wondrous clear As that he sounded to the Master’s ear. Wedded he was to the immortal Three, Poverty, Obedience and Chastity, And in a fourth he found them all expressed, For him all gathered were in Music’s breast, And in God’s house He took her for his spouse,-- High union that the world’s eye never scans Nor world’s way knows. Not any penny of applauding hands He caught, nor would have caught, Not any thought Save to obey Obedience that bade him play, And for his bride To have none else beside, That both might keep unflecked their virgin snows.