Roosevelt High School - Lariat Yearbook (Oakland, CA)

Page 42 text:

YII1'1'l'fj'-Elighli The Lame B0y's Song I am lameg I can not run, But I can feel the sun. I can hear the birds sing to me In the tree. I can watch the small, sweet Howers Through the hours Unfold and blossom forth. I am lameg I can not Walk, But I can talk And laugh and sing, And so bring Smiles to Mother's tired eyes, Chase the sighs From her sad and trembling lips. I am lameg I cannot go To and fro As the other children do, And all the grown-ups, too. But, still I travel far away All in a day, And back with many fancies new. I am lame, but still I'm glad That I'm alive. Iill not be sad. Iill hope, and sing, and talk, And-someday Iill walk! VERA BLUMAN

Page 41 text:

The Birth of the Flowers At morning time when we awake So happy and so gay, To the open road our way We'll take On a balmy summer dayg Through the woods and by the lake VVe'll hunt the flowers of May. XYe'll hark to the call of the open road Far away from the tumult and strife, The noises and quarrels of man's abode, Back to nature and woodland life That always lifts from our hearts the load More surely than surgeons knife. The modest violet's golden hue Greets us on Pansy Hill, i XYhile sparkling with the morning dew The shooting star puts forth its bill And nearer still the lively blue Of lupine shows by yonder mill. Oh, give us a day in the open air XVhen troubles and cares annoyg lYe'll hunt for the Wildcats hidden lairg VVe'll seek the pool so cool and eoyg XVe'll put aside our every care, And taste of naught but perfect joy. BERYL VVOODBURY if--fll' 1-1- :TZT 1, X,-1.4.4- -- ll' PT.-l-7. WI' F Win -f- r 'l it 'Vlllr-21 W Iyqtllm ' A i 'iii l, tang Ml tif.- T'-, LE ll5,'l 5 iw nf--rr 5 Fil I i0 -1:1 i i it gli it if llxiiu lil 1 4 I 'Nl' 'Mill tl lull? y I IME Wlllf 'irlg fl Il li illl'll ff :ll QL-'l. f-'r 25 -- if: H.f--- - 5?7?'fv':2v.-,-'-'5'4sg. ' W Fax l.- XV f., Q , 1 'A Sem ..1ig?f:.:3. W4 4551 ' s .1 -,WE-'4q.-L ,i U KW .,f.E'ivr.'fl0,. , 1-Qtpillgyrfx 4, ' cFX.l2!f'-27 ji 1 V I 144,19 '- - ,, 4 4 . fspfaifiag-.ilk-Lf' 9 L , 'Q ,ni N k.. ,,. gg., , 1' 'lg' nl g o ,..'I3 U lm Q i Hlif 13 'till lvl I HI' ll -J nlllmll l llll i Htl L 'M i fl f -- 1 11 lu llul willful' ,I tif II llflllillllllffnf ll, ff' ,zum'az4ill,'ffcf,f,f. flllllllllfngllllllilhffllifli 'I Tltifrty-setfeu

Page 43 text:

Rain There is something in rain that thrills me, Whether by day or by night- 'Ilhe wetness and splatter, The soft, sleepy patter, The thunder that fills me with fright. I love to be out if it's rainy, When the skyls a dull, sodden grey- The rain on my face All my troubles erase, And I feel it a real worthwhile day. RUTH ENTELMA N. A Soul The soul of the man, Like the heart of the rose, is there. Pluck away what the world may see, H Let it droop, and fade, and dieg But the heart of the rose is not gone Nor the soul of the man that lived! IRENE ALMQU1s'r. Seventeen I am seventeen and I'll never be again, I have my view on life and I have my views on meng I like the life I'm leading, tho' it isn't always play, And my one true wish, throughout the year, is: May it stay this way. Because I've heard it often said, Real joy is hard to f1nd - Itis not been said by seventeen, but by an older mind. Because, if joy's the thing I'll seek in my life's later cares, l'll keep the joy I now possess, no matter what else fares. RUTH ISNTELMAN. Thirty-mile