The new Irish threat...

LASALETTE
LIONS

It was the Fall,
Two thousand and five,
When convention brandished
Her youth and her drive.

Where heritage flashed
Her justified force,
Ransoming souls
From the present depraved source.

Where time-honored games
Are played upon fields,
And cleats crush the leaves
That the Sycamore yields.

Where ritual rules,
Past, present, obeyed.
And sidelines keep straight,
The paths St. John made.

Because a few men,
Chosen and cinctured,
Transmit the truth
Historic not tinctured.

For attitude reigns,
Where unwritten is set,
In the bent of the minds
At de LaSalette.

Two thousand five Falls
Have passed, but before…
Are thousands more Falls
Under tree Sycamore.

Where Catholic men, train
First for the Church,
And lead to the goals,
All ringers they’ll birch.

And that is why Fall,
Two thousand and five,
Notre Dame’s placing first…
Roared…

“Tradition’s alive!!”