Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1928 A LITTLE CHIPPY Little chippy in that tree, What’s your thought of me? Don’t you think the folk down here Act so very queer? People get so sad and blue And forget to grin. Don’t they know that all to do Is buck up and win? Betty Voolar, June ’28. SUNSET AND MOON RISE A brilliant sun In the gaudy sky, A brilliant sun Knowing its end is nigh, A brilliant sun Sinking slowly down Glares with a tiery frown. For a full white moon With a ghastly face, A full white moon With a sly grimace, A full white moon In the shadowy sky Will conquer, by and by. The brilliant sun. Nearly vanished quite, (For the brilliant sun Cannot rule at night,) The brilliant sun In its beaten dread Turns the heavens to vivid red. The white moon jeers At the furious sun. The white moon jeers And enjoys the fun. The white moon rises now more high In the shadowy, buried sky. The sun dies out In a vast cloud spray. The sun dies out With the dying day The sun dies out in an angry glow. For it hates to have to go. The full white moon Victorious The full white moon In the darkness clear Shedding a soft and silvery light. Starts its journey thru the night. Dorothy Kkouse, June '29. THE RIVER AT NIGHT The sky though overcast with clouds That hide the silv’rv moon like shrouds. With shadowed moonlight is a-glow; Each wavelet of the river shines. And through the branches of the pines, And birches, breezes gently blow. The waters smoothly onward flow. And mong the reeds that in them grow. They ripple tones of music clear; From o’er the hills and fields of wheat. Comes flowers’ fragrance, soft and sweet. Some silent night bird hovers near. Above the stream and nearby hill A lonely star gleams, bright and still. And gazes on its own reflection; Man fails to note this spot of joys. So far is it from cities noise. For Nature’s folk, ’tis God’s selection. Dorothy Smith, June ’28. AUTUMN LEAVES Swirling fantastically to the ground Like dryads clad in bright hues, The autumn leaves fall. Dancing merrily to their death. To their resting places on the earth The autumn leaves fall. Soon the trees, once laden with Color, will be barren; as The autumn leaves fall. Soon the spirits of Indian summer Will fade and as the wind blows The autumn leaves fall. Martha Scacciaeerro, Feb. ’28. PAGE TWENTY-TWO

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 192(4 SAD LITTLE LAKE Sad little lake, let us be friends! I too am desolate; I too would fain around thy bends, In silence meditate. Why are thy waters calm and still. Admiring the blue sky. Where shining cloudlets, like thy rill, Are drifting softly by? Thou art my friend, O little mere, To help me in my woes; At sight of your deep rill so clear, With it my trouble goes. Henry Eoarian, June ’28. IF WINTER COMES What will you do, little bird, If winter comes unseen, unheard? Cold and bleak the frost tries best To kill your fledglings in their nest? What will you do, trees so tall, If winter comes along with fall? Will you stand and sadly weep While fiercely round you cold winds sweep? What will you do pretty flower, If winter comes, so mean and dour? Will you droop and die away Or will you live until next May? Howard Kelley, June ’28. THE LONE LEAF A lone leaf now remains At the crest of the poplar. Forsaken by its comrades. It quivers with the winds And is bowed by the rains; But yet it is unconquered. Martha Scacciaferro, Feb. ’28. THE NANCY LEE Proudly rode the gallant clipper, O’er the raging main. Winds were howling round about her. Thru the storm she came. Great white sheet of canvas spreading. Caught the furious gale, .Sailors working with the rigging. Tried to save the sail. So the tempest in its fierceness Capped the billows white, Lightning flashing thru the darkness Showed the furious night. Oft the turbulent heavens echoed With the thunders’ peal And the storm tossed vessel shuddered Righting to her keel. All night long she battled onward, Plunging thru the sea. Till at length she turned her homeward Stalwart ship was she! Verna Smith, June ’28. NATURES MUSIC A crash and roar of waves at night Sounds like earth’s mightiest chords A bird on high with song so bright Sweet melody affords. The wind that whispers in the trees, The swiftly running brooks. These add such lovely harmonies, In all earth’s shady nooks. E. Gemeinhardt, June ’28. PAGE TWENTY-ONE

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THE REFLECTOR CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1928 AI.I. ALONE I Who’s that knocking at my door? Does it come from ’neath the floor? Someone at my window pane? Gee! I’m home alone again. II Who’s that tapping on my wall? Does it come from in the hall? Did I hear it call my name? Gee! I’m home alone again. Adeline Mair, June ’28. SMILE OR FROWN A face of sunshine, joy and bliss, Is what your friends will always miss, A face of frowns, of tears, or care. Makes all our lives so hard to bear. If when you walk upon the street. You smile at every one you meet, ’Tis then that you have done your best, ’Tis then that you have stood the test. So always try your best to smile You’ll always find it worth your while. For pearls are all too rich and rare. Rut smiles with others you can share. THE BROKEN TEMPLE It rose a massive temple, haughty, high, and grand, Whose spires seemed to pierce the realms of the sky; Its windows shone like diamonds from afar. Like stars from out the mysteries of the night. ’Twas built by one who worshipped only it, The beauty of its lofty height and breadth. It honoured no great purpose, no great name, ’Twas only built for him whose fancy wished. No temple thus conceived could ever last. For man alone cannot his will control. So from its haughty heights the temple fell And crumbled, meek and low into the dust. Then he who built the temple viewed the ruins And from them heard a voice which seemed to say: “That which vain fancy builds, can never last” The man looked on the crumbled pile of stones. And thought to what vain cause they had been used. As but a stone idol the answer came, So from the temple’s ruins he took his goods. Then built another temple greater still, This temple stood and battered every wind, Because this one he built with a purpose For it was built to guide the way-worn man Who passed to see its windows glow with lights. And see its doors swing wide to welcome in Any, who would its free comfort partake. Ellf.n Phillips, June ’30. Henry F.gahian, June ’28. PAGE TWENTY-THREE