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Page 25 text:
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SECOND PRIZE THE DREAMER WlNNIFRED POLSON, Room 22 He knows the sprites that populate the dells; The naiads and the mermaids of the fells; He sees the wild Valkyries on their steeds, And ghostly Knights who joust on ghastly meads. He finds small . beauties in unlovely places; See’s God’s sweet handicraft in children’s faces; The whispering of the Universe fills those ears, That hearken to the music of the spheres; And through Man’s petty bickering and strife, His soul soars past the pinnacles of life. So dream all poets, and in words of gold They write their songs of things both new and old, That we, whose souls are cast of coarser clay, May walk with them along their shining way. THIRD PRIZE THOUGHTS ON THE SKY Sheila Barbour, Room 14 When the sky to me seems lovely, On a blue, dark night; And I lift my face up to it, To its lordly height; Do I see the mighty Mars? Or, just little, twinkling stars? When I lift my face to heaven ’Tis my heaven that I see, Not so cast, or great, or reaching As in truth the sky must be, The stars are stars that peep At some little infant’s sleep. Must I see the planets twirling In their vast, encircling space, Must that tiny star be greater Than the sun that lights this space? That for scientists may be, But it spoils romance for me. For the moon that shines for lovers To be filled with mountains wide, To detail its fast rotating As its crescents change and glide; Its silver beauty takes away, Leaves a world hard, cold, and grey. Ever when the sky seems lovely, On a blue, dark night; It will seem a sky created— For this our world’s delight— Wrought for us by God, Just to grace our mortal sod. HONORABLE MENTION MY HOUSE Herein, the sweetest joy shall reign supreme, That ever through the many years between When youth has passed, and old age creepeth on My life will still be, but a happy song. Some days may come that will be sad and blue, Within my house, I win ne lonely too, But, as the sun comes out, when goes the rain, My heart next day shall be at peace again. And ever in my house of happiness Created by the soul which I possess, My children, in their turn, shall come to own The place I’ve always loved to call my home. Peggy Coleman, Room 37. SPRING Silent as nightfall comes stealing on, Soft as a blanket of down, Gracefully tripping with gayness of fawn, The spring comes.
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Page 24 text:
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POETRY CONTEST hKs JUDGE’S REMARKS T HERE is no more excellent poetic discipline than the attempt to write a sonnet, and it is interesting to find the first prize-winning poem a Shakespearian sonnet, correct in form, pleasing in diction, and with a definite arresting thought. The second prize poem, although not a sonnet, is also written in well-handled Iambic Pentameter. The third, quite different in form, moves more rapidly and the rhyming couplet ending each stanza is effective. In each of these three poems one feels that the writer has a very definite thought to express. H. E. Ross. FIRST PRIZE: “Youth” —Barbara Hannessen, Room 37. SECOND PRIZE: “The Dreamer” —Winnifred Polson, Room 22. THIRD PRIZE: “Thougts On the Sky” — Sheila Barbour, Room 14. HONORABLE MENTION: “My House” —Peggy Coleman, Room 37. “Spring” —Jeanette Jauvoish, Room 25. “Dawn” —Olive Dundee, Room 12. “Eventide”- —Meryl Smith, Room 35. “The Arrival of Winter” —Margaret Williams, Room 14. “To a Crow” — Clarence Blundell, Room 26. FIRST PRIZE YOUTH Barbara Hannesson, Room 37 The avid hours, like birds, may wing their way And cares, as shadows, cast a gloom uncouth, The year returns to songs of joyous May, And cares are lightened by the sun of Youth. As from the Past whence all things seem to flow, The tides of time come straining at the shore, An urge and hope in life would seem to show, A fount of Youth that wells forevermore. Alluring Future in the distance gleams To fade in drabness that the Present brings. Quiescent age reseeks in fitful dreams, The splendour born of Youth’s imaginings. Philosopher and sage should Know in truth The only everlasting things is—Youth. 12
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Page 26 text:
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hKs- Breezes like gossamer wings of fay, Tenderly smoothing a leaf, Glorying in beauty of brilliant day, Spring is here. Gradually creeping o’er hill and dale, Stroking the tendrils of flow’rs, Tenderly covered with summer’s veil, Spring is gone. Jaenette Jauvoish, Room 25. DAWN Gentle lifting of a curtain Soft and light, Palest tints of gold and violet. Lovely sight. Just as if some magic wand Swiftly passed Touching dreary earth with beauty Dawn at last! Dawn as red as choicest rose E’er beheld. Faintly blushing; brighter, clearer, Earth revelled. All above was one fair garden Blue and gold. Far away the woods stood crimson To behold. Silently it came and waited Lingering by, Changed a world from gloom to glory N’er to die. Olive Dundee, Room 12. EVENTIDE The sun sinks lower in the golden west, And busy hours of day are nearly done, All living things are seeking now their rest, And thankfulness ascends from every¬ one. The cows tread homeward as the light grows dim; The little lamps have ceased their gambolling; The weary horses, tired in ev’ry limb; Will welcome rest and all that rest doth bring. The shadows close around the song¬ bird’s nest, The twitter of their young is faintly heard Upon the soft, warm breeze, and mani¬ fest Is safety, warmth, and sleep for each wee bird. And weary man, in happiness and peace, His humble rest doth seek at even¬ tide. Dear Lord, we pray our thankfulness increase, And may Thy love and blessings e’er abide. Meryl Smith, Room 35. THE ARRIVAL OF WINTER Last night Jack Frost transformed the earth Into a fairy kingdom bright. His little helpers, full of mirth, Began to work with all their might To hide the earth into a veil of white. By the light of the moon and twinkling stars, They dressed each roof and leafless branch, And some did cover the tops of the cars. But those down chimneys dropped by chance Did not have long to leap and dance. Jack Frost had just completed his task, When the sun awoke with a burst of light, And revealed the earth in its newest mask, A lovely, pure, and fairylike sight Made by the elves in the shades of night. Margaret Williams, Room 14. 14
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