Bennett High School - Beacon Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

Page 12 text:

10 Cege seruneff ieeacoy God's Masterpiece By Alice Eby ILENCE, broken only by the steady lap, lap of the waves Sunset, an ecstacy of creative work, flinging paint madly to cover the vast canvas of the autumn sky. Heated, hushed moments, frantic brush strokes and then,-a masterpiece of God. Comes a dimming of the flagrant, fighting colors of sundown to the wistf ful tints of twilight,-tints that lovers hold precious. The lap, lap of the waves caress the shore, and clouds float in a dream lake,-a silvered silence from which the last lingering touch of rose recedes. Somewhere a loon calls softly and the musky scent of woods and lake en' velopes all. A shimmering blade of darting colors silently treads the rippling water. Only the incessant humming of insects breaks the dusky stillness as we step across the threshold of night. Occident and Orient By Grosvenor VJ. Bissell H, EAST is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meetf' Kipling was right. Our turbid, hurrying West will never understand the sluggish beauty of the Orient, lying, as it were, an uncut diamond, shrouded by the tongues of many nations, and veiled with the mysteries of lustrous eyes and veiled faces. India,f-home of the Taj Mahal, sweltering, heaving with the breath of millions,-China, vague and stoic,--Sumatra, with nearby Singapore,-sensf uous and warm, and evil,-that is the Orient. Ever beckoning the white man to linger and enjoy its languid hospitality, it flourishes its charms, and seems to hypnotize all who tread upon its soil. Its cities, ornate and wealthy, only conceal the laxity and ignorance of the interior, where the wooden flail still beats the yellow grain, and men still practice the evil eye. The Orient, like a great, slumbering giant, still basks in the setting sun of centuryfold habit. Some people are like that. They rest, and vaguely wonder, orientalflike, while others, stirred by the vigor of initiative, forge the upward path, and leave behind sparks of genius to ignite the fires of fame. Those who delay are swirled under by the eddies created as the sucf :esssful sail through the Sea of Life. The laggard and leader 'never meet- one can never fathom the other. So it is with the Orient and the Occident, one inert, the other active,-funparalled examples of retardation and progress.

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.N NX f- l ix .X f WEB ylfd l 7 95j ' R ,, ,A 0 .51 .Sll J 'X, ix x S IM T' I Q N j T X K I ' i ' r l ' V ' Rhapsody Orientale By Laura E. Salisbury The moon looks down upon a garden fair, And is enchanted hy the picture there. Orange blossoms touched hy gentle winds Waft forth their heavy perfume, rare and sweet. A fountain tinkling midst a grove of trees Drips coolly on a dragons slimy hack, A green jade Buddha stares into the dusfg His red eyes ever gleaming halefully. From out the shadows slips a maiden still, Dark haired, and almondfeyed, and beautiful. Her lover follows, tall and strong, and straight, And listens as she speaks in accents low: Go now. Depart from me forevermore. Grieve not, and think not of thy lovc for me, Nor mine for thee. Forget me in thy work, Seek solace in whatever way you will, And now, hegonef' He clasps her in his arms Then vaults the wall and vanishes fore'cr. s The moon looks down upon a garden fair And is enchanted hy the picture there. She cannot know that cruel fates decree This maid he married to a man unknown: One chosen for his wealth hy parents stern. Nought can he done, suhmission is the law. The maiden glides away and all is o'er. The moon looks down upon a garden fair And is enchanted hy the picture there, Bells Clanging hell, striking terrorf-FIRE. Silvery hells, gay, happyfsleigh ride. jangling hell, shrill, insistentfftelephone. Bells of peace, Christ is horn fChristmas. Old hell, rings no more, cracked-Liberty Bell. Golden chimes, pealing out- -WCSfH1iDiStCf. Bothersome hell, eternally tinklingf- in EL study hall. Laura E. Salishury.

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f' l 'Zz 5-'dll f ,fl -- N, .X N i f xx ,,,. i Nix r ,f fl , ,,-,f -sr f J if? i. X - T N A ' ' A l t ' V ' r X l l ' ' 7 x The Fruit of My Tree By Dorothy Phelps folmston A warm wind rustles the leaves Of my mulberry tree, And the soft berries Drop to the ground. These I can pick up Very easily. But if I climb the tree, And gather the berries carefully, They are not bruised and dirty. All About Dragons By Louise M. Zirms KNOW the capacity of a bird to fly, of a fish to swim, of a beast to get along, the last you can trap, the others take with a rod or an arf row,--but when it comes to dragons, I am ignorant of how they ride the winds and clouds to heaven. W-Confucius. The origin of the dragon in China is hidden behind a veil of obscurity which so far has baffled all attempts at its solution. The dragon enjoys an ominous eminence in the affections of the Chinese and is frequently repref sented as the greatest benefactor of mankind. In Chinese pictorial art, it seems an inseparable quantity,-fn the most important and venerated figure motif and one holding a remarkable position in the history and government of China. The people delight in praising its wonderful properties and powers. They have ascribed to it the power to make itself dark or luminous, subtle and thin or heavy and thick, and visible or invisible at pleasure. The real dragon should have, according to tradition, the head of a camel, the horns of a deer, the ears of a cow or water buffalo, the neck of a snake, the belly of a frog, the scales of a carp, the claws of a hawk, the palms of a tiger, and on each side of the mouth, whiskers. The breath is changed sometimes to water and sometimes to fire, and its noise is like the jingling of copper pans. Thus it seems that the Chinese have combined the characteristics of popular animals and have created dragons. Perhaps because of this, it is rather for the exponent of black magic than for the authority to divulge the secret of thc origin of the dragon.