Rockland High School - Cauldron Yearbook (Rockland, ME)

Page 24 text:

20 THE CAULDRON You, Clipper Ship, gave us many things, From your travels came lndia's ruby rings You brought us India's culture, spices, After you,d outbravecl Cape Hornis ices. Greatest of all you brought tales of others Stories of the rest of man, our brothers You bound a world, oh clipper ship, You, who sailed with wind and whip. The sun has set on your gleaming sails Now youire free from the death of gales Although youire left your wondrous sea And courier no longer will you be, As long as sea lovers' memories fly You, the clipper ship, will never die. R. D. Bowden, Jr. ON THE SHELF This one is shiny, smooth and new, This one is brown while this one is blue, Hereis one whose life is almost done, Man, see the queer looking shape of this One! This big blast furnace is beaten and cracked, N6,C1' will be used again it is a fact. Take a look at this one right on the end, It came from Russia by reverse Lease- Lend. I-Iere is a Scotchman, it has always a scent, This one was Pershingis, it never is lent. Ah, here is one whose heart is still warm, But this one bites like an atomic bomb. This old wreck came oier with the Dutch, It may be worn out but it's worth very much. Look at this big, beautiful briar, 'Twas used long ago by an old English friar. This one was cast away by a Greek, It holds quite enough to last for a week. This one belonged to a great millionaire, While this one was won at the old county fair. Next is an old one, it's carved like an ox, Built pretty rugged to stand lots of hard knocks. ' This was a fighting Cermaifs pride, Taken from Fritzy after he died. I-Iere is an Indian's symbol of peace, This one's a laborer's, covered with grease. Oh, here is one of Woolwortlfs best, And this one belonged to a cowhand out VVest. , This one was taken from a wily Turk As he was walking on his way to work. This one will fill with pride and joy The heart of any college boy. You see on the shelf some old, some new, Some cracked, some battered, some priceless, too, Some round, some carved-here's one like an elf. Yes, this is a collection of pipes on the shelf. Kenneth A. Chatto

Page 23 text:

THE CAULDRON 19 QBALLAD OF THE SHOOTING OF THE BOOL QWith apologies to Geoffrey Chaueerj A Certain braggart' wunse ther was, Hoo dwelt of Tomas-toun. Upon biz farm a bool ther was, With hyd ful ruddie-broun. A braggart was he cooled becoz Ol' tol tails had he tolled. The fortene-yere-olled fysh he cot YVas, I trow, but fore inunthes olled. The ruddie bool upon hiz farm, But Hv handes was he hi. The bool to no-won wood due harm- Eek unto a fli. Of rashun kyupuns the mon had nun To lil hiz empty got, Sew from the kayse he snatched liiz gllll, And in the barn the bool he shot. ln the toun he orfan tells Of how the bool he slade. The monstrus bool, that doun the rode Was chaysing a fare made. Ile thew awai hiz phouling-pees, As doun the rode he phlede To stop the bool, who had cot the made, And tawsed her on her hede. The mouthe of the bool he opun phorsedg Thruste doun hiz arme sew thine, And grabbed hiz tale, and tugged and pulled, And turned hymn owtside in. But Wee, since We no the truth of the tail, Kan sey he waz tuting his tuta. F ur he iz the mon hoo is nowne to hav groan To be Tomas-toun's greatest bool shuta . Kenneth A. Chatto Paul M. Payson THE YANKEE CLIPPER To the New England Clipper ships of Cod, of man and sail I give you this, New England,s hail A clipper ship of sail and booming gale The clipper ship, the ship that couldn't fail. You've sailed a whole world's oceans o,er You've given us rich, full ocean loreg The past saw you bring your country greatness, ' It saw you give your country proudness. New England made you of Vermont oak New England,s lives and hearts you broke, Carolinais pitch was in your seams You carried Carolinais hopes and dreams. American cotton gave it toughness, That your sails might stand the rough- ness, The shipwright and carpenter gave their A arts, Your men and masters gave their hearts. New England gave her salty sons That you might make those wondrous runs. Around the Cape and Horn you went Wherever God's winds were sent.

Page 25 text:

THE CAULDRON 21 DEPARTURE So with a grinding squeak of the rusty 1 chains They hoist anchor and slip away. Old Sol has yet to show his head Above the hills around the bay, As Polaris and Aquarius . Start to slowly fade away. 2 Far olf you can hear a seagull sound His lonesome, plaintive ery, And now an ebon comorant Awkwardly splashes by. 3 Through the mist slowly rising from the bay, A tall sleek ship you can see, Its sails are set to the wind'ard- A small boat goes by in the lee. 4 On the deck is the buzzing and the hust- ling Of the rugged, wind-tanned crew, VVhile the mate and the cap'n are down below Plotting the course straight and true. 5 The mate goes over to one of the ports And silently reads the glass', While back on deck are a few of the men Patiently polishing brass. 6 The Quartermaster takes his post at the helm, The captain barks a command, They all are wondering where the next stop will be- Near home or in a foreign land. 7 'KAnchors Aweighn is the command from the bridge. Let's be oil: and on our Wayf' 8 They pass some other tall sleek ships And fishboats with their gulls. Itis low tide now, and there on the port They pass rotting skeleton hulls. 9 . They set their sails as they pass the buoy, And on the shore a crane, Like a sort of sentinel seems to say, Come back to the Coast of Mainef, Kenneth A. Chatto TI-IE LOSERU When the smoke and dust have lifted And the battle is lost and won, Whether it be basketball or football Or any game just for fun, There is always a happy victor Who is cheered for many days. But no one thinks of the loser Or gives him any praise. No one says, Nice game, fellerf' Or bestows on him any cheers. No, all that is left for the loser Are the numerous boos and jeers. It's a cruel world we live in, But Weill have to accept the boos, For in any game where there's a winner There isvalso one who must lose. Robert Achorn