Dyersburg High School - Trojan Yearbook (Dyersburg, TN)

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r--.v fir . I. - ' 'fir 'A:'97f'3.- 66lDeep Loycgg One Act Play. By THOMAS BARKLEY Characters: Herald Man Maid Stage Setting: The stage is set to represent the sea-bottom. In the background is represented an old Greek galley, a great hole is torn in the side. This hole is a shadow-screen. Large green boulders, coral clusters, line the stage. In one corner is a cluster of brightly colored sea-anemones, tall. An octopus is barely discernable resting motionless on a great rock. Near the right center lies a great clam, closed. In the left front is a greenish mass, partly in the shadow. Three long varicolored plumes wave gracefully above it. The mass slowly erects, a youth stands. He wears a short cape, the plumes curl downward from his skull cap. I-Ie is the herald. The light gives the ocean-green effect, first overcast, then calm and serene. All characters are in iridescent dark green tights and wear skull caps. Herald: Know ye not, in long ages ago Before Attica's fame had spread, There lived a demi-god? Think, Surely you have heard of Pan. He the god of pleasure, musician, But he lived, half goat, half man. He was outwardly gay, inwardly sad, For he was loved for his music alone. Suddenly, mysteriously, he disappeared. Men said he went to dwell with the gods. The true tale, I am charged to tell. On him Zeus has cast a deep spell- Wait, my time like the storm above is o'er, And evening calm is emerging from the ocean's roar. fDepartsJ fSlowly the bi-valve opens and the valve again slowly closing freveals the girl which it has screened. fShe appears to have just awakened. Maid: I have slept through the elements angry battle, Secure here below, on the soft ocean floor. But the distant waters are lapping the sun's fiery crest, And the sullen gray is merging into deep azure. CShe seats herself upon the clam shell, then picking up shells fas castanets, she goes through a light dance. CI-Ie emerges from behind some great boulders near the wing. Maid: CColdly,seriously. You? Man: fSoberly. Yes, once again I press my suit, do. not start, Your unfavorable answer, I shall depart. fWarmly. Though it crushes my soul, and drains my heart. Oh sweet nymph, tell me you love me true, Tell me your love is true as the spring skies are blue, As deep as the seas at the mighty ocean cliffs, That it reaches the rare strata beyond the earth. Page thirty-seven U, -ur. I usifqy ,L

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Edgar Allan Poe This short sketch of Poe's life is written for the Edgar Allen Poe Literary Club, which is, as can be seen by its name, dedicated to this man, who, we believe, is the greatest literary genius produced in the South. Edgar Allan Poe, generally regarded as a Southern poet, although born in Boston January 19, 1809, was the son of David Poe and Elizabeth Hopkins Poe, who were members of a travelling theatrical group. Unfortunately at the early age of about three years, Poe's mother and father both died and he was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. John Allan, Richmond, Virginia. Mr. Allan was a well-to-do tobacco merchant and gave Poe everything that could be desired. He was an extremely bright child for his age and even while only a youngster showed remarkable literary talent. When Mr. Allan moved to London in order to establish a. branch for his business, Poe accompanied him, and at- tended a boarding school there for about five years, after which they returned, and he was sent to the University of Virginia. He also attended West Point. An unfortunate taint to Poe's character was his love for strong drink, but this can probably be excused when one understands the hardships of his life. This caused the Allans to disown him and he was thrown on his own resources. He turned to literature for a livelihood and there gained the fame for which he is now noted both in American and abroad. His best works are The Raven, Tamerlane, To Helen, Annabel Lee, and Tales of Mystery, Imagination, and Humor. Poe, characterized by weird imagination in spiritual experiences, and by exquisite beauty in his lyric poems, has achieved his fame. As nearly all great poets, Poe died in poverty, in Baltimore, at the early age of forty. The real literary value of his works and his unequaled genius was not accredited him in his life-time, but both are realized now by the people of Europe and America, as is evidenced by the reputation which the South's greatest poet enjoys today. W. T. D., '28. Page thirty-six

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Maid Man : Maid : Man: Maid Man: Maid Man: Deep Love - Continued flndifferently. The Danaides in their doomed toil, Filling the running cask. Accomplish far more than you, In your self-imposed task. QWarmly. Tell me not that I woo in vain, Let me not hear that I the unfavorable swain, Have let my heart be lost to love. CHaughti1y. Love? I wish to be forever immune from things so base, To be far removed from passion so commonplace. fDreamily. Yes, Love, What magic does that word recall, Love alone can master fleeting time. Do you but think in yon Pan's day, Of the wonderously beautiful Galatea, Carved from cold marble white, By Pygmalion's master-sculptors hand, And by the divine Aphrodite Given life. His prayers answered. Oh, can't you realize the power of Love? Love is only a passing fancy, The base attraction of idle minds. fSeating himself beside her and taking her hand. Aladdin like, Loves genii appears to me. At the slightest thought of you, my dear, A Love far greater than has ever been, or shall ever be. In all my drea.ms doth this genii appear, And consumes my heart in a pillar of flame. QBreaking. How do you know that the sense you feel, That thing you call Love, and place above On a high pedestal, is not a passing fancy? fDrawing closer. Have you not heard of that great and mighty God, Who rules supreme, beyond the starlights' gleam? He is all powerful, but his power is not in lash or rod, The scepter in his hand is the moon's mellow beam, Which, when it reaches the mortals on earth, Draws them with an irresistible power. To pay tribute at his splendorous court. Where their hearts are consumed in liquid fire, But again come forth changed, purged, and pure. From this mysterious clime he rules the universe, With his own mighty attribute, Love. Without Love the very earth would disintegrate, Fall piece from piece, scatter into the vast void, And even you and I, would wither and dryg Blown here and there by the winds of chance. Until some atomic particle, instilled with Love Should attract us to it and form the nucleus Of another mighty planet, formed by Love. Page thirty-eight Warmly