Appleby College - Argus Yearbook (Oakville, Ontario Canada)

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One must be humble in front of nature. The desire to interpret must not make one lose intimate, direct contact with it. Camille Pissarro Nature is not benevolent. With ruthless indifference she makes all ' things serve her ends. Lao Tze 1 paint only what I see. I ' v seen it, I ' ve felt it, maybe differently from other epochs in my life, but I ' s never painted anything but what I ' v seen and felt. Picasso

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THE FREE MAN The free man is a common soul Of plain and docile mind. Who led a slow and simple life, Yet left it all behind. He wandered from his ancient home And travelled far away. Until he found this distant stage On which life ' s end to play. His heart has never travelled far. And now is home once more, Amid the warm and gay home fires Far from this awful war. His heart is home but his flesh is here Beneath a foreign sky, And flesh it was that met its end When he lay down to die. He leaped and twisted in the air. Cut through by a searing pain. But in his heart and soul he knew, That he was free again. E.R. Dickens (9E) LE VIEILLARD n s ' assoit sur le banc. Le soleil brille sur le petit vieillard et les oiseaux chantent tout autour. n ne re- margue pas toutes ces merveilles. n leve ses yeux gris et tristes vers la mer. Sa peau est de la meme couleur que ses yeux, mais pleine de rides. Je me rapelle quand j ' etais bronze comme un dieu , se disait-il, un vrai diable avec les filles . 11 sourit. n est seul maintenant. Personne ne I ' admire. Personne parle avec lui. Le sourire disparatt. Ouand il retournait de la peche toute la ville venait le voir. . .ca fait longtemps. Une larme coule mais il I ' Scrase de ses doigts dur comme le cuir. Ses yeux brillent toujours. La vieillesse est la part la plus triste de la vie. La famille nous oublie et les amis meurent. La mort! Ca nous rend fous de peur quand il faut mourir seul. Mais on n ' a pas de choix. Avec sa canne il trace des images dans le sable. . .les temps passes, la jeunesse, la mort, la tristesse et le bonheur. Ses amis qui venaient boire un coup au bistro de la gate sont tous morts. Ce qu ' il ferait pour recommencer sa vie! n ne changerait rien. C ' etait de bons temps avec peu de tristesse. n s ' endort sur le banc et reve les beaux rSves de la jeunesse. La nuit tombe dans un silence eternel. Le petit vieillard est encore la. 11 descend vers la plage et prend un bateau a rames. n s ' enfonce vers I ' horizon lointain, essayant de retrouver I ' impossible. La jeunesse, chose qu ' on ne peut jamais revivre. Andre Dzierla (Grade 13)

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THE STAG The stag, being a truly mighty beast. Stood testing the open air of dawn. Being one of few that could Defy the dangers of the mists That silently shrouded a lush, green carpet of meadow, And another, more lurking, lying thing. The thing was just a harmless shadow to the stag, Being downwind and thus far From detection by the mighty antlers That might have done their owner more yet. Had the shadow not moved, ever so carefully, A third, more deadly arm to its shoulder. The stag, busy with a meal of tender grass. Stiffened, uplifted nostrils straining in the air Which held the third limb ' s click. Foreboding messenger to the shocking Thunder That bore the stag to the earth again; A shadow ' s delight. S. Roloff (10 E) MORE MA aJSCRlPTS TO MUNCH One day my bookworm went into the M-section of the dictionary. He stepped on a Meteor and turned Mauve. He took some Medicine for Mauve people and felt Much better. Mournfully Meandering More slowly he Met a Mad Mouse who Mentioned his Mother. The bookworm Made a Merry jest and Miraculously cheered up. The Mouse ' s Mother has Many More Manuscripts to Munch for lunch. Simon Thornley (Grade 4)