Lyman Hall High school - Singer Chronicle Yearbook (Wallingford, CT)

Page 16 text:

IV. THE CHRONICLE “And ever against eating cares Lap me in soft Lydian airs, Married to immortal verse, Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out, With wanton heed and giddy cunning, The melting voice thru mazes running Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony.” Margareta Erikson ’22 LEST WE FORGET In the last two or three years, a certain feeling or sentiment seems to have arisen, which deserves our careful consideration. We should ask ourselves whether it is in complete harmony with the highest American ideals. Are our returned soldiers receiving proper care and appreciation? It is 0|f this attitude that 1 would have you think. In the first place, we should discriminate between the necessary and the unnecessary. We should consider this question not in the light of a task to be accomplished and lightly forgotten, but as a duty and pledge Avhich cannot ever be totally fulfilled. We should first investigate with an unbiased mind, what the actual need may be. We should consider the scope of the work and the best course to be adopted. When we have determined to our satisfaction the great, crying need, we should carry our righteous cause and purpose to a successful end. Human decency demands this from us. A sense of fair dealing requires it. The highest American ideals call for it. The honor and integrity of the people of the United States are now being judged by a silent tribunal of waiting men—our returned soldiers. This task is vitally important, for we have no life-long pension system as that which has gone far to support the Civil War Veterans. The undertaking is of vast difficulty, for public opinion must be aroused indifference and apathy must be overcome, legislators must be elected who fully understand and appreciate the situation. Let us consider how similar situtions and circumstances have been handled in the past. From time immemorial, the ancient, medieval and modern peoples have given vent to their gratitude, for the saving of home and country, in triumphant songs of victory. The great deeds of their national heroes were extolled in song and story. Many, nay most, of the epic poems of the world’s literature have been composed in honor of the exploits of some ancient warrior. Consider the sages of Norway and Sweden, the epic poems of Greece, the panegyrics of the Romans, the songs of the hosts of Israel, the primitive poems of the Anglo-Saxons—all these are but outpourings of the praise and gratitude of a thankful people. These sentiments did not die away in a few years, but have remained as the foundations of our literature. They are barbaric to a degree, yet some of the same enthusiasm might well become the American nation. If the ancients remembered their heroes forever afterward, should our people forget theirs in a paltry four years? The ancient heroes were feted and revered for the remainder of their lives. Should not a Christian nation remember her saviors for at least a generation? It should

Page 15 text:

THE CHRONICLE III. THE SPIRIT OF MUSIC (SALUTATORY ESSAY) Recently, near the historic Fort McHenry in Delaware, commanding a sweeping view of the harbor ami Patapseo river, a monument was erected to honor the memory of Francis Scott Key, the composer of our national anthem. The pedestal of this memorial consists of a great drum richly ornamented, bearing a medallion portrait of Key and patriotic insignia encircled by figures representing music. It is topped by a colossal figure symbolizing “The Spirit of Music”. Surely it would seem that “The Spirit of Music” serves most fittingly as the theme of the monument. Someone has said, “Let me make the songs of the nation and you shall make its laws.” And it can not be denied that the spirit of song and music has played a very important part in the development of our own great and glorious nation—its hopes, its aspirations, its ideals. When the Indian warriors in their feathers and war paint set out for battle, it was the rhythmic heat of the tom-tom that stirred them to action, that inspired them, that handed them together. Music was not used merely in war, but served as an accompaniment in their wild fantastic dances when their tanned, lythe bodies, covered with brilliant paints, bent and swayed in perfect time with the rhythmic heat. When our Pilgrim forefathers came to this land for freedom of worship, these pious people brought with them a new music, the quaint and tender melodies of their psalms and hymns. The gallant men trudged ahead followed by the gray-clad women on their way to church every Sunday where they poured forth in song their faith in God and gratitude for His great goodness to them. How faithful and devout they were, these forefathers of ours, as with this music in their hearts they set about their task of establishing for our nation its firm foundation. Today there remain to us abundant examples of rhythm and melody in the omnipresent jazz music. It is a striking representation of the discord found in the heart of the nation and in the heart of the individual after the World War. However, the most ardent advocate of this barbaric music realizes in the depths of his being, that jazz is hut temporary and must soon make way for something deep and strong that will bind melody and rhythm into a perfect whole. Why is it that Paganni and Caruso are so justly famous? What have they done? They have endowed their music with a soul—and that soul is harmony. When Paganini raised his bow on high, it came down with a crash on his strings What made it sound like thunder? It was the thunder in his own soul? When his violin wailed sorrowfully, why did the tears roll down the cheeks of the orchestral veterans and even the virtuosi? Why did people go off into gales of laughter when a comic vein seized the maestro? It was his soul speaking to the people through the power of his music. Who was not entranced by the golden voice of the great Caruso? Was he not loved not only by his own countrymen but by every American as well? Masters such as these have already immeasurebly influenced our nation, fast bring ing to every home in our broad land the message of harmony. We anticipate, eagerly, the time when there will be no discords in our world of rhythm and melody and when we shall have a golden age of perfect harmony. Behold ! In the future amidst the folds of red and white and blue may we see the bronzed figure of the Spirit of Music looking down upon us with benign approval and may the whispering breezes bear to us the words of Milton:

Page 17 text:

THE CHRONICLE V. not only be a remembrance of the mind, but a remembrance of our purses. The help should not only be sentimental, but also practical. We may help our soldiers by education, by monetary assistance, by a helping hand, by public appreciation, and by discrimination in favor of the returned soldiers in the hiring of men. In this connection, the government has already accomplished a great deal, more than many thought possible, but our legislators need to feel the weight of public opinion to urge them on to greater efforts. Will our course be that of appreciation or apathy? Are we to be considered slackers? When. John Kendrick Bangs spoke in Wallingford, a few years ago, he stated that the saddest thing he had observed in his travels was the forgetting, not only of the war, but of tin1 soldiers who brought it to a successful conclusion. You may ask, “I)o not our taxes take care of this situation?” That is what they are designed for, but have the American people, have you, seen that our funds have been rightly administered? You may say, “We are sick of, and fed up on, this subject.” So are the soldiers, but they cannot so lightly dismiss the after effects of the war, on body and soul. Their wounds were not healed by the signing of peace, nor did their troubles end when the armistice was announced. You may ask, “Why should you bother about the matter?” When we go out into life, we shall have to assume the financial and moral burdens of the war. We feel that we are alive and well because of the heroic struggles of our soldiers. Our posterity will bear the burden of the world’s greatest conflict, for many years to come, and they will revere or belittle our memory according to the manner in which we treat those who have sacrificed so much for us. They have, in many cases, given up their life prospects to go to fight the enemies of our country. Should we not give our interest and assistance in a whole-hearted manner, morally and financially, to our ex-soldiers? No nation is greater than the service and aid given to those who saved her, in their time of need. The immortal words of Kipling, written in memory of the English soldiers are equally appliable to our own soldiers—. “Lord (iod of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget—lest we forget!” Paul Solandt ’22 THE POTTER AND THE CLAY What is life? Down through all the ages, since the very dawn of creation to the present day, when civilization, through the highly trained intellect and inventive genius of men, seemingly has reached its highest cumulative point, man has been groping in the twilight of wonder of things immortal for the answer to the great question. In primitive times, he believed that his existence on earth was ruled by fierce gods, impersonated by the sun, the wind, and the sea, whose anger must be appeased by living sacrifice; later, that men’s lives were predestinated by Fate; but, little by little, these beliefs have given way to another, greater truth—.Man is not the slave of Destiny, but the moulder and shaper of Ins own life, placed in his hands as a sacred trust by his Maker—poets have sung it, philosophers and sages have voiced it. We are like Potters, every one, and Life is but Clay. At first the Potter works blindly, for he is gathering together his tools, and they are yet crude and unweildy. There are a great many of these tools, of all sizes and shapes, but each one has its own task to perform upon the work of the Potter. Some are of his own making; his own conception of the