Brigham Young University - Banyan Yearbook (Provo, UT)

Page 24 text:

©i)os;e Wo Wf om Wt (©be iWucf) To our teachers who have helped and encouraged us to make the best use of our opportunities while at school. Your influence, dear teachers, has made us realize the necessity of an aim in life. We have been made to feel with the poet, Live for something, have a purpose. And that purpose keep in view. Sailing like a helmless vessel, Thou canst ne ' er to self be true, Half the wrecks that strew life ' s ocean. If a star had been their guide Might have now been rowing safely. But they drifted with the tide. May we as members of the class of 1912 H. S. show our sincere gratitude and appreciation to you our worthy teachers for your earnest, untiring efforts, by endeavoring to bless humanity as we go through life with that which you have so nobly helped us to gain.

Page 23 text:

PRES. G. H. BRIMALL President Brimhall has indeed been a FRIEND and FATHER to us during the few brief but happy years that he has been our guide and inspiration thru High School. As we have endeav- ored to cUmb a Httle higher up the scale of intelligence and culture he has always freely given us counsel that we could not have received from any other source. We feel that we shall always be deeply indebted to him for the spiritual and intel- lectual gems that he has strewn in our lives. It is our sincere prayer that thru his coming years he may have that greatest of all joys which comes from realizing that he has been a BENEFACTOR to his fellowmen.

Page 25 text:

©i) i rabuate The gentle rays of springtime ' s sun Fall on his tired but happy brow. He knows at last the goal is won — Hard was the fight; what cares he now, The weary years of toil are o ' er, And labor done, if sacrifice Of days that shall return no more. While comrades followed mid-night joys, He has tiresome texts prepared; Not tempted he to join the boys; No passing gain his heart ensnared — But now, his credits all complete, He holds that document so rare; With blissful heart he waits to greet The friends whose kindness placed him there- The coming of those friends he waits Whom God and Nature make most dear; And he their joy anticipates On hearing of their son ' s career. This is the springtime of his life! This is his Commencement Day! The years of never ceasing strife Have, like the winter, passed away. He stands beneath a sky most blue, The songs of birds fall en his ears, And meditations deep review The histories of bygone years. He dreams of papers oft returned With B ' s where he expected A ' s; Remembers how his proud heart yearned For just one kindly word of praise; For he is not a genius who, Like lightning through the stormy skies, Glitters once a brilliant hue And, with that flash, forever dies — In his early life surpassed His classmates and reached marvelous fame Of short duration that did last Scarce longer than the drummer ' s game Of love, which ends the day begun: No, he is like that light which breaks With patience the dark clouds, the sun — That great celestial fire which makes The whole earth glow with wondrous light: Through opposition he has fought, By constant labor day and night. Until at last his pains have brought The long contended prize — success; While they, who brighter far than he, Have been through their own carelessness Lost in that great and unknown sea Of failure, where the whitened bones Of many a gallant sailor lay Who lacked the courage to go on. Thus passed the months of school away. And summer came when they were gone Sweet summer that vacation brings