Clarion University of Pennsylvania - Sequelle Yearbook (Clarion, PA)

Page 9 text:

THE SEQUEULE Dear Class of Nineteen Hundred Twenty-Two — Do the years ahead seem very long to you? Do coming events seem pleasant and bright? Is the future aglow with rose tinted light? in visions of bliss do no shadov rs fall. Nothing but bright rose tints, no gray hues at all? That ' s not life as you ' ll meet it, Twenty Two ; Life s scroll in unrolling will bring more to you. Nought but Lift ' s pleasures will mean much of loss; For these are but merely its glitter and dross. Life has its pleasures, but great duties call; Life ' s joys and Life ' s duties will come to us all. Some, on Life ' s journey, the Lost Chord may sound; And down through the ages its echoes resound. Non nobis solum, there is no nobler goal; V ' ours but to make of life a perfected whole. Life is before you: From its fated road you may not turn. Not yours to tread or leave the unknown way; You m ust go e ' er it, meet ye what ye may. Gird up your soul within you to the deed; Angels and fellow spirits bid you speed.

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THE SEQUELLE 19 22 19 22 22 19 19 22 22 19 19 19 22 22 19 22 22 19 19 22 19 19 22 19 ■ 22 22 19 22 19 19 22 22 19 22 22 19 22 19 22 19 22 19 22 19 Dear ' 22 : I give to you. My best regards and thanks. Your pennant fine, (No! Now ' tis mine) Enrolls me in your ranks. What does it say. This emblem gay? What mean its colo rs clear? Is joy foretold? Is grief enrolled In this, your pennant dear? It hath a thought. It it is sought. In both its rose and gray. And this I see. For you and me. After the dark comes day. Dread gray of night Precedes the light; Darkness gives no warning. The tints and hues Mingle and fuse, At breaking o ' th ' morning. But rose and gray; Both come each day; Light and shadows blended. Fullness of life, Its joy and strife, These make life so splendid. Rose! Blush of love; Blue skies above; Spring time, joy eternal. Gray! Bread and hash; Labor for cash; Winter, nothing vernal. The flush of youth Is seen in truth. In Rose, emblematic. But Gray old age Doth warn the sage. Of pains, dull rheumatic. The red, red rose, Baby ' s pink toes Thes colors do reveal. A muddy splash. My cigar ' s ash. This pennant doth conceal. Rose flush of cheek, (Tho aspect ' s meek) It ' s beauty does display. But dull, gray fear. Keeps drawing near; Time drives our joys away. The rose in June, Sets hearts attune; June comes but once each year. Gray November, Bleak December, Make shadows doubly drear. The rose for youth; It is forsooth. Fit color for this class. The gray ' s for me; For don ' t I see What ' s in my looking glass? The Rose will fade; Fickle as a maid Are her tints now so bright. But Gray means rest; And that is best; Rest, like slumber at night.

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THE SEQUELLE MEMORIES BY DAD. Memories, sweet memories, Are stealing o ' er me now; And the touch of care no long Is felt upon my brow. From out the misty past a voice, So dear is calling me; And back in answer to its call, I haste to mother ' s knee. Memories, sweet memories. They weave their mystic spell; They bring me gentle music. Like the chiming of a bell. And as its wondrous tones so sweet. Fill all the ambient air. The sweetest one among them all, I hear my mother ' s prayer: Holy Father guard my child; Lead him safely through the wild; Shield him from earth ' s toils and snares; Keep him through life ' s many ca res. Prom his heart remove all doubt; Keep him pure within, without; Ever present at his side. In all things be Thou his guide. Let Thy spirit win his feet. E ' en into the heavenly street. May the walls of purest gold, Ever-more my child enfold. Dear Lord, forgive these troubled tears; I will trust Thee for all his years. Oh Heavenly Father, to Thee I give the child Thou gavest me. Memories, smeet memories. Are coming to me still; They make my burden lighter. And with peace my heart they fill. My mother ' s prayers are calling From the shores of long ago; And by the Living Waters, Does the answer come — I know.