Brockton High School - Brocktonia Yearbook (Brockton, MA)

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CLASS POEM 1492 - 1941 - By Richord Meyers To those, the followers of the folling sun, Retrievers of lost light, to their work-done. To the seekers wefstword of unknown ploces, Brovers of seos, the solt shorp in their lips, ond The wind like o wet sheet whipped in their foces, Drown by the stors, orched high, to o new lond- To them we owe the pledge of going on. Did you feel, Columbus, the glory of this wild Eorth, with the buxom-bosomed rivers, ond The lorge-limbed trees, with the fierce men thot smiled Through their point, with the woy of the untomed wind As it teosed, on the for-drown coost, the sond? Did you feel o sudden newness ot the grind Cf your bow on the beoch? Did your heort expond? lt wos more thon the gold, Cortez. Did you stond On the edge of night ond see roll overheod The moon-metol heoted over the fire-flome Of sun, ond the stor-sporks flying outspreod, Revealing the forging of o new doy- A new world? More thon the spice or the fome, Explorers, hod lured you so for owoy. Perhops, Bolboo, when dorkness dropped on thot seo, You felt the full greotness of whot you hod found, And your feet could sense the motion dizzily Of the world-for you knew by then it wos round. Perhops you could see, os the eorth's worn hulk Twisted its derelict of hope from the night- Like o whole, speor in its side, rolling its bulk- To lift o new, o brighter foce to the light. Explorers, ond conquerors, we know you, Who with the edge of your swords hove plowed These fields, who've plonted the seed of your foith, who l-love nourished the crop with the sweot of your blood. The seo beors the scor of your keel, your eyes Are still wide, ond the blood on the blode is wet, And in the eors of our listening thoughts not yet l-los the wind broken the sounds of your cries. We of this loter time ore the young groin, Sprung from the fresh furrows of new eorth, Cherished in the bosom of centuries, the fruit of your poins. lt is spring, ond we grow on the sun-foced slopes, But we remember you, Explorers, ond your hopes. We were long in Coming ond strong in Birth. 24

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We assume then that the American ideals, the American way of life, and the American dream have been a vital and a living force in the building of these United States. What part will they play in the world of the future? lf anyone could be so rash as to hazard a guess as to the shape of things to come, the future looks dark indeed. The European powder keg has been touched off again, and this time the charge appears to be destroying every- thing worthwhile in the Europe we have known. Paris is now in foreign hands. with all its art treasures, day by day the old London coffee houses ithe former haunts of the literary greatl, London churches, and other institutions as old as democracy itself are being destroyed. All Europe would seem to be a jungle of snarling simians-apparently proving that Clarence Day was right when he said that this is a simian world. Certainly in a Europe honeycombed with ancient rivalries and ambitions, there can be little hope for the steady advance- ment of modern culture. Clearly then, it is in America that the hope of the world must lie. lt is only in a country whose people form a cultural entity, where there are no deep- seated hatreds between racial groups, that there can be any intellectual advancement. lt is my sincere belief that l-lenry R, Luce was right when he said that this is going to be an American century. When this war ends, it will probably find Europe exhausted, frustrated, and defeated. Across the ocean will lie America, with, we hope, a clean bill of national health, l-ler traditions, her native culture will remain intact, The country will not have been devastated by war--the national heart will be pulsating with life and vigor. And it will be America's duty to help Europe out of chaos, to try to keep the world from altogether reverting to the dark ages. Dating from the end of this war, America will undoubtedly set the standards in world morality and culture. Let us hope that the citizen of i960 will be educated on the American plan- not the plan of totalitarian Europe, l-le will believe in the supremacy of the individual and the common man, l-le will be a creature of reason and not of prejudice and impulse, Arbitration and peaceful settlement of differences will be his guides in world conduct-not brutality and murder. l-le will further the arts, literature and music will be part of the American heritage that he will share with his fellow man. l-le will not tear down in a few minutes the work of centuries, He will be tolerant, Aryanism and all other racial cults will not be part of his creed. ln a world with American ideals he will be able to follow Jean Paul Richter's great law of culturei Let each become all that he was created capable of being, expand if possible to his full growth. This is not a Utopian ideal impossible of attainment. lt can become a concrete reality if we take it upon ourselves to make it so. Indeed, I like to think that the spirit of the new world that is to come is expressed in the memorial that is being carved on the side of Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. There, hewn out of imperishable granite are the four giants of democracy-Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln, l wonder if they see a vision of hope as they gaze out upon the great west that was the cradle of our Democracy? ln one of his books, James Truslow Adams tells us that once there was a young girl sitting on the steps of the Boston Public Library. She was Mary Antin, a Russian immigrant. As she sat on the steps of this storehouse of learning, she wrote these words, which l would like to leave with you as a philosophy for the future: This is my latest home, and it invites me to a glad new life, The end- less ages have indeed throbbed through my blood, but a new rhythm dances in my veins, My spirit is not tied to the monumental past, any more than my feet Continued on page 88 23

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CLASS ODE Music by Phyllis Polmer Words by lryihg Boilet l lg r-1 ll 'l l'4i1lf7l i fl' Gly ffl L-JILJ lavtg l...lll..l l'l cl QW? v 5 flifilr? ir. .A wr l l l lfl' lr-l l -'l V7 l l Tl l i V 'Til n Q o n 'srl gfxlb-:il 'I if A ' ' ' . not: o 0 '- L-l L-ll..-lL-1' Qlffl M i..1Liiqj-Tiff lil rj V-7 ry J. mi AJ- lufl .U Q wi ,Tj -l do on lv S . ,' f- . g-l.. ' -Il l s can s 9 L1 l-1 1-l l V Ll but Ll While the seo sobs the story ot wor, Arid the Iohd reeks the red ot deor blood, A new host of ideolists yourig Are oreooririg to stouhch the sod tlood While the world cries, ottlicted by strite, Arid the echo ot bottle resourtds, We will seek to erodicote hote, Arid to heol this torn world ot its wounds Theretore ohword we press tovvords the gool By the oid ot our Fother oboye, Ot world beoce orid ot brotherhood true, With wisdom orid boldhess ohd love, 25