Berea High School - Prima Luce Yearbook (Berea, NC)

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PRIM A LUCE THE DEATH-BED We watched her breathing through the night — - Her breathing sofe and low — As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our weary hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied ; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came, dim and sad, And chill with early showers, tier quiet eyelids closed ; she had Another morn than ours. - — Thomas Hood.

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FIRST LOVE ' Tis sweet to hear, At midnight on the blue and moonlit deep, The song and oar of Adria’s gondolier ; By distance mellowed, o’er the waters sweep. ' Tis sweet to see the evening star appear, ’Tis sweet to listen as the night-winds creep From leaf to leaf ; ’tis sweet to view on high The rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky. ’Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog’s honest bark Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home ; ’Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come. ’Tis sweet to be awakened by the lark, Or lulled by falling waters ; sweet the hum Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds, The lisp of children, and their earliest words. Sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapes In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth, Purple and gushing ; sweet are our escapes From civic revelry to rural mirth ; Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps ; Sweet to the father is his first-born’s birth ; Sweet is revenge, especially to women, Pillage to soldiers, prize-money to seamen. ’Tis sweet to win, no matter how, one’s laurels, By blood or ink ; ’tis sweet to put an end To strife; ’tis sometimes sweet to have our quarrels, Particularly with a tiresome friend ; Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels; Dear is the helpless creature we defend Against the world ; and dear the school-boy spot We ne’er forget, though there we are forgot. But sweeter still than this, than these, than all, Is first and passionate love — it stands alone, Like Adam’s recollection of his fall ; The tale of knowledge has been plucked— all’s known— And life yields nothing further to recall Worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown, No doubt in fable, as the unforgiven Fire which Prometheus filched for us from heaven. — Lord Byron. | Page 100 )

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Character Sketches 1. Cyrus The Great : Aftei Cyrus held conqueied Lydia,, he, in adherence to the spirit of the age, intended to put to death its King, Croesus. Croesus was so rich that his name has become proverbial, lie was now doomed to die. Mountin 0- the funeral pile, he explained, Solon ! Solon ! Cyrus, wondering, inquired the reason. The captive replied that the Greek philosopher had once visited him and made light of his riches, saying, that no man should be judged happy until the manner of his death was known.” Cyrus, struck by the reply, released Croesus and made him a confidential friend. 2. Homer: T Tomer was an Asiatic Greeek, whose name has become immortal. The Iliad and the Odyssey art the greatest epics ever written. The first contains the story of the seige of lioy, the second narrates the wanderings of Ulvsses king of Ithaca, on his return from the Trojan Conquest. Homer’s style is simple, artistic, clear and vivid It abounds in sublime description, delicate pathos, pure domestic sentiment, and noble conceptions of character. His verse strangely stirred the Grecian heart. The rhapsodist Ion describes the emotion it produced : “When that which I recite is pathetic, my eyes fill with tears ; when it is awful or terrible, my hair stands on end and ™y .heart leaps The spectators also weep in sympathy, and look aghast with terror. 9 According to tradition Homer was a schoolmaster who wearying of con- finement, began to travel. Having become blind in the course of his wanderings he returned to lus native town, where he composed his two great poems After- wards he roamed from town to town, singing his lays, and adding to them as his inspiration came. Somewhere on the coast of the Levant he died and was buried. His birthplace is unknown, and according to an old Greek epigram, “Seven rival towns contend for Homer dead Through which the living Homer begged his bread.” 3. Archilochus : Archilochus was a satirical poet of great reputation among the ancients, his birthday being celebrated in one grand festival with that of Homer, and a single double-facel status perpetuating their memory. He invented many rhythmical forms, and wrote with force and elegance. His satire was so caustic that he is said to have driven a. whole family to suicide by his venomous pen used in revenge for his rejection by one of the daughters. He likened himself to a porcupine bristling with quills, and declared. “One great thing I know, The man who wrongs me to requite with woe.” I 9 [ Page 102 ]