Central High School - Almanac Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

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!

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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

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Sarnanthy Allen at the High School. BY ANNA L. GARBER, '99. E an' Josiah always used to live in the kuntrie, but when our Sairey Ann got growed up to be a young lady, me an, Josh included that we wood send her to som' fashunable city skool, so's she could lern to Egger an' talk ine English, 'cuz if there's anything I jest can't tolerate, it's to hear a young lady of good parentige a makin, awk- ward an' poor sentensus. The skools in our kuntrie wuz good enough for the common run oi people, but me 'an Josiah wanted Sairey Ann to be as kulchered ez we wuz. So, ez I sed afore, I told Josiah to tend the pigs and chick- ens an' do the cookin' while me an' Sairey Ann went a huntin' an inteleckchual institooshun, wich, we'd bin told, could be found in Toledo. The bildin', a big yeller struk- cher, was considurable bigger than Ben Jones's new gro- cery, but I jest picked up all my wominly curridge, an' sez I to Sairey Ann, we won't go round to the back door, sez I, but we'll walk strate in the front. 'Bout thirty feet frum the door, I saw a little woman with a big white apern on, who almost skared me to deth. Just a little ways away frum her wuz another little woman, who wuz staring exackly into the mouth of every girl that kum along, as if she wuz lookin' for Klondike gold nuggits. 'Round her throte she had a imnience fur thing, witch reminded me of the pickchers I wunst saw of sum people thet lived near to a big stick kalled the north pole, witch it peers hez bin lost some plase, an' folks are now huntin' fer it in bulloons. But I walked strate up to the woman in the big white apern, dropt a curtsy to her, an' sez I, Pleze to show to