Collegiate High School - Torch Yearbook (Richmond, VA)

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HAIL, COLLEGIATE 150' Hail, Collegiate, we thy children See thee noble, know thee wise, As we learn to read thy vision In thy clear, far-seeing eyes. From the silver torch thou raiseth, Light our lamps from day to day. Haec sunt mea ornamentan Let us hear thy pure lips say. Hail, Collegiate, our Athena, This libation here we pour. All our hearts, our strong endeavors Touch and bless them we implore. Send us from thy presence quickened Unto only high desire That each heart in its palladium Keep alive the sacred fires. MARY CARTER ANDERSON GARDNER Headmistress, 1915-1920 IO

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EDITORIAL THERE,S music in the air. From the time our mothers, singing Rock-a-bye, Baby, lull us to sleep when we are very young, the importance of music in our lives continually grows. The first lullabies are soon followed by our own versions of Pop, Goes the Weasel, London Bridge, and 'fMary Had a Little Lamb, classics familiar to everyone. At Sunday School, all dressed up -in organdy or velveteen with tremendous sashes, we sing in sweet, innocent, tones Jesus Loves Me and God Is Love. Does the course-of events sound familiar? It is the pattern followed by most small boys and girls. Now we are six and in September we climb the steps to Collegiate. The Primary Grades are the days of Billy Goat Gruff and the French songs, Frere Jacques and Alouetta. At Christmas, dressed in cheesecloth angel costumes, with tinsel halos and small candles, we lisp Angels We Have Heard on High, as we climb into the windows at the church. Spring arrives and, at Sauer's Gardens, our proud parents watch as the Farmer Takes His Wife, and We Put Our Right Foot In, We Take Our Right Foot Out. When we move across the courtyard to the other building, we hear music echoing through the halls. Glee Club days are with us, and we find It's a Grand Night for Singing. Of course, there are those of us who will never forget when we were wistful maidens in Patience or red-coated dragoons wearing heavily-plumed helmets. All through school Dem Bones Have Been Rising Agin, and the teams have obeyed the cheerleaders' pleas to mow the team down. Each year we harmonize on school buses and sing raucously on Baby Day, with the teachers slightly frowning. Who can forget the dim lights and soft music, not to mention the rock and roll, at the annual dances at Collegiate. At lunch we tap time with our feet while the jukebox plays our favorite records. Our hearts thrill when at the Mosque we recognize some musical composition that we first heard on a victrola, as we sat in the ladder-backed green chairs of Miss Cowles' room. In church we know the words to many hymns, because they become a part of our lives as we sing them each week in chapel. All too soon graduation day arrives. Our memories of this June evening will linger in our minds forever associated with music. The Seniors, carrying red roses and wearing full white dresses, walk down the aisle to the stirring notes of Pomp and Circumstancef' Music is in the air at Collegiate. Not only in our singing do we attain harmony, but also in the atmosphere of our whole school life. Harmony is achieved by each student's cooperation and the combined efforts among classes, students and teachers, and teams. It is sometimes hard to keep the melody clear, true, and smooth. As a monotone can spoil a whole song, so can one student create discord by being out of harmony with the rest of the school. An allegro atmosphere pervades, however. Staccato emphasis is given by tests .and examinations, The noise of students in halls and at lunch reaches a fortissimo, But there are a few moments, 'tho rare, when the stillness of chapel or a Thanksgiving program settles over us. The Crescendo of school life builds until it is time to leave Collegiate. So far, the overture and first movement have been played. Collegiate has helped to make this much of the sym- phony of our lives a beautiful experience. Collegiate has given us the preparation and the appreciation so that we may play our parts in the rest of the performance. . . , Send us from thy presence quickened Unto only high desire That each heart in its palladium Keep alive the sacred fires. 9

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