Central High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

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The Sleep of the Birds,” by George Sterling, abounds in beautiful expressions and inspiring thoughts. Where canyon-waters dimly fall or creep, Where fields are still, or down the mournful coast. They cease from singing, and above their sleep Wheel the wild moon and half the starry host. Linnet and gull, the dove and fluting thrush, Are silent in the reaccepted dark; The patient eagles drowse within the bush, And evening grasses hide the dreamless lark. Surely the night seems long, the morrow far. Lntil the eternal fountains foam anew, And mad with day they see the morning star Linger in light, ere splendors touch the dew. I re man had faith, there were bonds of trust Between their weakness anti a power withdrawn. I he wind of wings, the midnight talon-thrust Knowing of this they slumber till the dawn. But we how often, fugitives of care. Awaken when the night is loud or dumb, And see the solemn altars of despair. And dread the dark, and dread the day to come! While human strife rages in the lands across the waters, it is befitting that the song of Peace should be sung. George K. Woodberry selects this theme lor his reverent ideas: I pray for j eace; yet peace is but a prayer. Mow many wars have been in my brief years! All races and all faiths, both hemispheres My eyes have seen embattled everywhere The wide world through; yet do 1 not despair Of peace that slowly through far ages nears. Though not to me the golden morn appears; My faith is perfect in time’s issue fair. For man doth build on an eternal scale. And his ideals are framed of hope deferred ; The millenium came not; yet Christ did not fail. Though ever unaccomplished is His word; Him, Prince of Peace, though unenthroned we hail Supreme, when in all bosoms He be heard. 21

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in THE MEAHT 1IILE Summer and “What is so rare as a day in June?” have not, at this season of the year, yet received the thoughts of poetic inspiration. Poets are still lingering over the precious theme of Spring and Life’s beginning. Sophie E. Morgan, in her “Herald of Spring presents a realistic picture ol an early spring flower garden. The bright yellow jonquils are blooming again, All brimful of fragrance, so let us drain Their green and gold goblets, and joyfully sing, While sipping their nectar, a welcome to Spring! “In each golden chalice fond memories dwell, And each shining petal has something to tell Of old-fashioned gardens, where grandmothers’ beds Taught early jonquils to hold up their heads. “Undaunted by March winds, that bluster and blow, They smile and look up, as they swing to and fro; For down in the depth of each glittering cup Are the smiles of the spring-time of years garnered up! • A sincere appreciation of Spring characterizes Clifford Howard’s Sanctitude “My pen adrip with destined words, 1 harken to the April breeze. Thinking to trap the song of birds. The murmured joy of meadowed herds And Clod’s soft whispering in the trees. “But lo! a touch attunes my heart; A heavened communion stirs the air; And I, who thought with course art To play for Spring a minstrel’s part. Awake and fold my hands in prayer. 20

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rooms of the lamented Madison Cawein are still appearing; in current literature. Among the most beautiful and influential of his short poems is At the Day's Close “Through pools of feldspar heav’n above which lies One cloud’s flaming wing, the Cod of Day Wades downward to his death; alone his wa Leap little ripples of the sunset skies; And every stepping-stone of mist he tries With Midas foot, transforms its stony gre To burning gold; until, with one red ray. He sinks, and o’er him. stars, like bubbles rise. So should all Beauty pass; in rich accord With its surroundings; touching Kartli till all Conform with it as an accessory; Transferring to its future the regard Of its own dreams, through which the spiritual At last’s attained and immortality. C OQ - Sleep Sleep comes o’er the aching body. Like a mantle soft and warm. And its gentle folds of darkness Keep us safe from any harm. All the bitterness of day-time. Dark conceit, and anger’s pain. Slip away, for men in slumber Have no thought of paltry gain. For the sad and broken hearted,. Rest is balm for aching grief; To the sick and maimed and suffering Sleep gives peace, and sweet relief. Margaret Brings. 17. 22