Central High School - Almanac Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

Page 134 text:

In the music, moaning, sighing, Swelling, trembling, sobbing, dying, In the rhythmic step of dancers, In the din of revelry, In the glasses' merry clinking, In the laugh of revellers drinking- O that I might keep from thinking, That I might not hear nor see ! That I might shut out forever Those dread words that follow me, It can never, never, be! Winter into spring-time merges, Now no more his mournful dirges Moans the winter wind snow laden Through my shutters dismally. NOW no more, from embers curling Wreaths of smoke, in eddies whirling, Down the hollow chimney swirling Shrieks the wind in tiendish glee In my ears I fain would smother Cursed words, accursed to me-- It can never, never, be ! Smothering my foolish dreading, Nearer, nearer, comes our wedding When I hope my own to make her, Mine in sweet reality. Comes the day I might have cherished- Would to Heaven that I had perished, Aye, sweet were it had I perished Ere I met my Emilie ! Had I known as now I know it Dearly, dearly, taught to me. There are things that cannot be

Page 133 text:

A -- . 1 lb-1 Y i3,,.,, ,c , ?E -,L Y-:Q--f:fu:fn: --a--k---- 8---f '---- Numquamfi BY WTLLIAM HOYT WORRELL. RMLY glowed the Waxen tapers Breathing rare ambrosial vapors, While on every side Were vieing Wit With Wit in reparteeg Music dreamy, rich, entrancing, Filmy iigures, gliding, dancing, And the fairy place enhancing, Laughter, Mirth, and Jollityg But amid this mad, mad, revel Sadly, Sadly, come to me Thoughts of things that can While in dreamy measure gliding, To my care herself coniiding And my gravest doubtings chiding, With adored Emilie. O'er the Waxen polished flooring, While above my soul is soaring, Ominous I hear a roaring- It can bode no good for me. Listen, loved one, canst thou hear it Prophecying now to thee, Hlt can never, never, be ? not be fPrize poem in Annual Poem Contest. .......-1

Page 135 text:

Swinging in the old stone tower Far above, which seems to lower From its frowning gargoyled cornice Dingy with antiquity, Chimes with silvery voice are ringing, Far below the choir is singing, In my heart new life is springing, 1 am blind with ecstacy. Yet beneath this gay veneering Deeply, deeply, lodged in me Lives the thought, 4' It can not Now arrives the moment fateful, Silenced is the voice so hateful, Now in spite of Fate I meet her At the altar-Emilie. Are my mind and senses failing! Suddenly she starts, and paling, Reeling blindly, grasps the railing, Falling forward heavily. She was dead-would I were with her- With llel' Corse let buried be Hopes forbidden her and me. Swinging in the old church tower, Far above, which seems to lower From its frowning gargoyled cornice Dingy with antiquity, Heavily the bells are tolling, Leaden tongues the notes are rolling, O'er my dark soul, naught consoling, Steals the organ plaintively. And the chant the choir is singing Seems to murmur this to me: It could never, never, be. be!