Clifton High School - Rotunda Yearbook (Clifton, NJ)

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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

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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 H GH SCHOOL FEBRUARY 1928 MORNING LIFE I gazed into the sky at morn When life holds nothing Its splendors spread for me Skies are gray With fleecy cloudlets floating ’round Seems naught but sorrow As waves upon a sea. Comes your way The sky was such a color bright You spend your time, you That artists love to paint Idly fret It looked to me so heavenly Upon the hard luck Without a speck or taint. That you get. The morning sun had risen high But should you pause and With golden beams so bright Think awhile It seemed to me that I on earth You’ll And your life is Would shout from pure delight Worth the trial. The robins sang in treetops high. So play your game and With joy their morning song Try to win A body who was very sad Now set your teeth and Could not be sad for long. Wear a grin. For it was morning down on earth See now you’ve started With dew o’er all the grass In anew That morning sent a happy thought Just watch those gray skies To me a carefree lass. Turn to blue. Mary Petrusha, June '28. M. Levine, June ’28. LIGHTS I love the silent countryside When shades of evening fall And high upon the green hillside I hear the night bird call. A million stars awake from sleep There are some things which are worth any cost; but above them all I value consciousness They dot the summer skv. Over the trees the moon doth creep of manly life; and the arts form a part of this In silence passes by. at least. —William Morris From some old farmhouse on the hill A candle throws its beam The humble night is dark and still, While I sit here and dream. Evelyn Erler, June ’28. PAGE TWENTY-FOUR