Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

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SPRING SONG HAMLET O Mistress Spring, where can you be? We ' ve missed you for so long; We ' re waiting for your quiet step And yearning for your song! O luckless, hapless youth, why did The unrelenting fates so harass thee? Thy sole desire in life was but To learn the undisputed facts of sage. The world is wrapped in dreariness, The birds no longer cheer; We ' re waiting for your youthful touch To warm the coming year. So far off in the distance now, • Your graceful form I see; That I ' ll just drift to dreamer ' s land Until you waken me. Elizabeth Chartier, ' 32. MARCH WINDS Mad white caps whirl across the seas And ships fly onward with the breeze. The trees and bushes bend and sway While winds contend in mighty fray. The windows of our houses shake And tremble ' til it seems they ' ll break. The sun looks down upon the scene With laughing face and jolly mein. Our hats and papers blow about — That wind ' s a nuisance, there ' s no doubt. But still we have a merry day In March, so playful and so gay. Elizabeth Dellinger, ' 30. CLOUDS Here and there are fluffy clouds Floating over you, And they seem like pillows piled On a quilt of blue. Softly drifting o ' er the hills Watching sheep at play, Feathery and huge they roll Places angels pray. Often do their shapes they change Like a young child ' s face Sometimes looking like a lamb. Others, like some lace. Jean Butters, ' 31. FIFTY RINGS Pull fifty rings of the purest gold. The dearest rings that one can hold. Each ring fits on a lady ' s finger; Her hand among them loves to linger. What are these fifty rings so rare? Just tousled locks of baby ' s hair. Henrietta Bartnick, ' 33. And yet, when thou wert all prepared To follow up thy rare propensities, A burden wont to stagger men Was placed upon thy inefficient head. Richard Hayes, ' 30. LIFE (ModeUed on the Old English) Our life is a candle. The wick, our soul. Our hopes, the flame — Flickering up brightly, Then waning — while Slowly, but steadily Our life candle burns, Burns lower and lower. One last flare of hope — We dwell on the past For one fleet, fading moment And then — the flame goes out Eleanor Hayes, ' 31. JUNGLE SONG Savage, shrieking, wild. Untamed jungle child. Music ' s throbbing note Born in husky throat. Stamping golden feet Thrill to gloom-filled heat. Swaying, darkling girl. Jungle dancers swirl. Slinking, crawling shapes, Monstrous man-like apes. Moving to the beat Padded hairy feet. Native dancers croon, To the dusky moon, Till that haunting song Dies and fades ere long. Ruth O ' Connell, ' 31. NIGHT A thing of beauty is a winter ' s night When the moon above is shining bright. And kindly earth so far below Is covered with a sheet of snow. But better still, I like to see A summer moon so «ilvery, Sending down its glowing light. Upon a world of darkest night. Edward A. LeDuc, ' 33.

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MOONLIGHT FROM HAWKE ' S CLIFF THE BOBOLINK I stop to lean against a giant tree. I ' m at the top, my long, hard climb is done; And gazing down to earth from whence I came, I wonder how I ' m here, so far above That somber forest, black and far below. Down there ' tis dark, as dark as ignorance, And not a moonbeam penetrates the gloom; And yet from there I started all alone, Making my way along the tangled trails, Unmindful of the dangers lurking near. ' Twas dark and damp — I cannot quite forget The kiss of dewy cobwebs on my cheek. The feel of clinging fern about my feet. The sound of bull-frogs grumbling from the swamps, The frightened cries of wild folk underfoot. At last I reach the ladders, standing stark Upright against the mossy slabs of rock. And there begins my difficult ascent First clutching, slipping, falling, then again I gain my feet and crawl on towards the top. I mean to get there, far above this threatening realm Of choking darkness fraught with hidden fears. For here ' tis dark, yet higher up I know The moon is shining bright, revealing all That merely may be dreamed of down below. At last I stand as high as I can go. I look out, far beyond the forest black And gaze on wonders far beyond my dreams: Vast rising mountains, dipping dells and vales, A silver pit of sand, a mirrored lake. The river, winding ' round its magic course, A wonderland of shadows, moonlight-laced. Created by the trees that grace her banks While slumbering cattle lie at peace and rest, Stirring when the rapids swifter grow. And all is wonderful, and I am here. Where I may gaze upon the moonlit world Forgetting all the dangers and the fears Through which I ' ve passed to reach the top; But still, I know I ' ve earned my prize. Yet never could I reach the top above. If others ne ' er had toiled their way before. The ladders were all made and placed for me And I hac but to climb the slippery rungs; This in itself was work enough for me. ' Tis so in Life: we start in ignorance. And follow in the steps of those before; But many steps we have to take alone And higher we must go for higher gain. Then, when we reach the top, the world is ours. Jeanette Downing, ' 31. Up from the creek, Down from the hill. There comes that whistle, So loud and shrill. The Bobolink, So bright and gay. Sings to the sun, At break of day. In winter time, He southward goes, And leaves behind. The land of snows. When Spring comes back. With sun and rain. His cheerful song. We ' ll hear again. John Hogg, ' 31. EVENING Across the painted evening sky. Behind the hills where shadows lie, A golden orb is sinking slow, Tinting the clouds with amber glow. The gentle zephyrs whispering near Dispel all terrifying fear. And Night in mystic mantle dressed To all the world gives peace and rest. Richard Hayes, ' 30. BOYHOOD DAYS Boyhood days, Joyhood days. Better than all earth ' s gold. But the time you feel their longing steal. Is when you ' re growing old. Ruth Surrette, ' 33. THOUGHTS 1% is good to be out on the road, and going one knows not where, Going through meadow and village, one knows not whither nor why; Through the grey, light drift of dust, in the keen, cool rush of the air, Under the flying white clouds, and the broad blue lift of the sky. And to halt at the chattering brook, in the tall green fern at the brink. Where the harebell grows, and the gorse, and the fox- glove, purple and white; Where the shy-eyed, delicate deer troop down to the brook to drink. When the stars are mellow and bright, at the coming on of night. Andrew Mansfield, ' 32.

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MIRROR OF VENUS There ' s a mirror that shines with a light divine Beneath the clear blue sky, Where many a plighted maid doth pine For the beauty of Venus ' eye. The floating bubbles o ' erlap the stones, As the maidens watch and sigh. And the watery clearness, and the silvery tones Are as deep as heaven is high. Rose Assenza, ' 30. MEDICI VASE Lustrous grapes in clusters hanging. Tender, green their tendrils twining, Sturdy men their labor plying. Earthly cups with fruit are filling. The molded chalice, scalloped rim, Entwined with leaves of tender green. Is set upon a pedestal slim And all may gaze on its golden sheen. Juanita Hazelton, ' 30. THE BLESSED DAMOZEL The stars of heaven in her dusky hair. The lonely maiden looks with thoughtful eyes Upon the deeds of men who live below; For she is an immortal of the skies. Mary Bonney, ' 30. MINERVA Her potential scepter she holds in her hand. The symbol of vigor and might on the land. Then, too, her stern visage seems ordained to lead Expression of strength and the will to succeed. For down through the ages, has she played her part, Minerva, the Goddess of War and of Art. Elizabeth Ridlon, ' 30. PSYCHE True grace and beauty in Psyche did abound. From whose eyes the sparkle of love flashed ' round. A maiden with butterfly ' s wings she once was, And her love for Eros knew not one pause. Though Cupid caused her both torture and bliss. No virtues of life in her were amiss. Elizabeth V. Upham, ' 30. SAPPHO Sappho, you In days of Grecian grace Lilted lyrics to the ling ' ring roll Of a lyre. Sappho, yours is virgin mold of face Carved by Nature ' s ardent flaming soul And a lyre. Louise Sherman, ' 30. APOLLO AND THE MUSES Apollo, god of music and of song. Stood in the midst of beauteous maids, While all around in floating gowns so long. The Muses danced on rapturous days. Gladys Douglass, ' 30. THE FORGE OF VULCAN A huge hulk shadowed ' gainst the murky sky; The dull, red glow of greedy, licking flames; The sweating, straining ripple of bulging muscles; The panting, labored breath of toiling gods; The dumb, despairing search for precious respite; The measured monody of clanging anvils. John Roach, ' 30. LAOCOON O Son of Earth, why struggle on. When death ' s lean clutch is at your throat, For soon your manly strength is gone; Then pain of terror, madness racks your frame; And as life ' s breath succumbs to dark and whirling roar, You find that mortal will is dust to Godly claim. Merritt Stockbridge, ' 30. PENELOPE She ' s sitting on a block of stone Her body ' s in repose. But there, I wonder if it ' s known What in her mind arose. Her hair has many a silken curl. She has an aquiline nose. She is a stately Roman girl With thoughts of love — who knows? Miriam Schreider, ' 30. NIOBE ' S DAUGHTER What does this daughter of Niobe see As she goes forth to meet eternity? Her needless dying, loss, disgrace, and pain? But no, her mother ' s guilt is, as by rain. All washed away in understanding love — Her heart is filled with peace from Heaven above. With gentle, pure, and calm, resigned face, She knows death near — she ' s lost — yet won life ' s race! Elizabeth Dellinger, ' 30. DYING ALEXANDER His tangled ringlets, symbols of the might That he had known, fall free. A light! He raised his head, those eyes that knew no fear, Those fading eyes, above in wonder bent. His face aglow, while every firmament. Blazed forth in splendor for his funeral bier. Baldwin Tuttle, ' 30. CHINA Golden vase with jeweled face, Your slanting eyelids close. As moonbeams tied with silver lace, And perfumed shadows doze. Scented silks of peacock hue. Musk and dusk have breathed Mystery and a fragrance true With smoky shadows wreathed. Ruth O ' Connell, ' 31.