Central High School - Cog N Pen Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

Page 15 text:

I Remember, I Remember I hould have written it) | remember, I remember, s that I received I emember, I rem [he mark that I brought home [he school | did alle Because of cards rs alway said to me, 1 1 er was shocked and grieved: 1 по! comprehend. I 1 not a whit: me it worned Го my fr iends I was a hero to bluff ; Го them I was an “honor man yy trym And though sometimes I made it, | 10и patron of the zero. ссе nembe grad that leaving school lake me very ad; hildish ignorance wondrous Joy, at I don't go to school vas a boy Charles Shienbloom. TO POE » Max Goldstein So thou art gone, thou sad and restless soul, Yet, there are they who understand thee not, How little joy in thy sad life nd when it left, it left thee, too, quite numb, š But from chance words nd soon thereafter grief ok up its toll. darts, nd who do judge thee not from their own hearts, that dropped like poisoned did C ome! l lips of those who oft thy truth forgot. [ hy wondrous tales ol horror and ol woe, А F rom L No other pen could write so well as thine, in time Fear not, thou minstrel strong and true, thy rhyme. And truly, wonder tales as superfine, l thy magic and Promulgated the genius in thee, Poe sh all revere HOME ROOM 215 A. ! Des Classes MISS LAVERS de francais

Page 14 text:

ЗЫ Ре eur RESUME Bv Max Goldstein Four long and joyful years have passed at last, And I, with cheerful face and sparkling eye, With great pride for the honors I amassed, [hink of the anxious weary years gone by. “Twas on a cool and breezy autumn morn, lhat I first to this noble structure came And saw some students gay, and some forlorn, Four years have passed and still it is the same. How strange at first this plac e to me did seem, )ut now the wonder of it all has gone, And things of what I never thought to dream, New hopes and new desires have been b orn. What struggles and what trials Га to bear, But each in turn I've met and overcome, And with. success which to me seemed quite rare, I've had my troubles—still Гуе had my fun. )ut now | stand with proud complacent look, То me there are no cares, no doubts, no fears; Still how I conquered each new intricate book, Will always be the wonder of my years. Amor Poetae Your beauty is a flushing rose That flutters in the breeze of May. [he rose must fade when autumn comes. Must then your beauty too away? My love for you is pure and true Like yon high mountain's peak of snow. The snow will melt when spring-time comes. Must then our love thus also go? — Edmund Rauch. H. Brodsky— Was your landlady indignant when she asked for another month’s rent? M. Feld—On the contrary, old man, it was I who was put out. SPRING ГУ. 21 TI Bv Ruth Colborn As I walked through the woods one day, l'owards the latter part ol May, Го my surprise Spring had been there; She'd left her traces everywhere. [Һе buds had just begun to peep After their covert winter's sleep. [he little brook just slipped along, Singing as it went a merry song. And as I mused beside the stream, Half in a daze, half in a dream, I heard a merry twitter above, Of a bird calling to his love. I saw the flowers had blown to grow, After their nap under the snow. [he dry twigs crackled beneath my feet, And I breathed the air so fresh and sweet. Spring had come, of that I was sure, And the sky above was a sapphire pure. “This, [he flow’rs, the birds, and the brook that mused І “is God's gift to man,” Beside me there just as I stood, Right in the very heart of the wood.” Historia Where are the deeds of Tiglath Pileser? Where is the might once possessed by great Rome? Where is the genius that once was Caesar? Where can their spirits at last find a home? Once there was greatness, and once there was power, Now but destruction, and ruin its mate. Gone are the heroes that w atched from yon tower Only the pages now tell of their fate. Edmund Rauch. Negro folk songs are simple and beautiful, and Jazz Is complex, but both are perfect reflections. of emotional states, pure in one case, stupid and vulgar in the other.

Page 16 text:

— TO PARENT Dear Parents: Carelessness is the bane of modern life. It secretly and unknowingly enters into our existence. It is a parasitic growth which thrives upon and saps its sustenance and strength from accuracy, judgment, and established habits. Carelessness insidi- ously undermines the advantageous conditions of life. The negating factor in the life of youth is carelessness, which is a social crime of the first order. Carelessness, like a coma, steals over the indifferent. As a trance or plague it weaves its spell of helpfulness. Have your children wake up and free themselves from their habits of carelessness. Let their care and alertness ever guard them from the destructive social effects of care- lessness. Very truly yours, ҮЛ ЛУ Aa Principal.