Coopersville High School - Zenith Yearbook (Coopersville, MI)

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Salutatory As the sinking sun at eventide ends another day, so this eve- ning’s exercises draw the curtain on our high school scenes. It is to these ceremonies that I wish to extend to you all the evening’s wel- come and greeting of my classmates, the graduating class of 1928. As we vision that glorius sunset at close of day. we are re- minded of a poem by Longfellow. In this poem Longfellow gives to us a picture of a village blacksmith. Week in and week out, year in and year out, the blacksmith goes to his shop moulding pieces of iron. So likewise we have gone to our work shops week in and week out, but we are molding the Future. Longfellow pictures for us this comely and honest village smith accomplishing his daily toil. But besides this he visions the result of his efforts in great rewards in these words: “Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its’ sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought!” We, who stand here, are shaping and moulding for futures as the blacksmith moulds with iron. At the forge bf life our for- tunes must be wrought, and by steadily pushing on, we will make for ourselves a livelihood, a success, and happiness such as was created by the mighty smith. Are we not here tonight at our graduation enthused and en- dowed with rigor and desire to earn for ourselves a reward befit- ing our attempts and acknowledging our accomplishments ? Through the harmonious blend of the colorful sunset we gaze fartherward, and what do we see? A mighty anvil is sounding. The ringing echoes peel for us the revelation of our burning deeds and thoughts. During our four four years we have had our ambi- tions and our ideals. In a small measure some of these have been realized. But now as we stand at the forge of life, we comprehend that many ideals and ambitions which before have lain dormant and latent can and must be crystalized into deeds if we wish to be successful. Peering and searching still longer, we witness from our aspir- ations, struggles, conquests, victories, defeats, friends, and ene- mies. And again we realize that side by side with our ambitions and ideals will be defeats, disappointments and probably enemies. But we are also confident if we conquer these, they will give beau- ty and color to our lives. PAGE TWENTY-FOUR

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“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.” Patiently, day by day, may onr shuttle work in threads of loyalty, helpfulness, self-control, simplicity of heart, loveableness of nature. May we never weave our tapestry with the ugly threads of egotism, pettiness, self-pity and envy. Again we glance at the picture. Who is that ugly old woman with that enormus shears in her hand, castirg gloom over the en- tire picture? Forbodinglv, she is cutting the thread. This spells death in all its horror. But does fate alone cut cur lives short? How often we see people bestowed with the best materials, squan- der by foolish living their time, health and wealth. A few years of reckless pleasure cut their lives short. Burns, the great poet of farm life, who sang “the short and simple annals of the poor” was given the very best materials, excellent health, a keen mind, and a poetic soul. Fortune smiled on him and lifted him from the plow into the midst of the scholars of Europe. Here he became the leader, demanding the admiration of all. Then by his own foolish acts he cut his life. At the early age of thirty-seven, he fell a vic- tim of his folly, the awful drink habit. “It was not the lack of good fortune without but lack of good guidance within that wreck- ed his youth.” His life sings a fovboding song—sings of the shears that cuts with carelessness our lives. Every smallest twist of virtue or vice leaves its trace of beau- ty or ugliness in our tapestry. The three fates, spinning, weaving and cutting, do not alone decree our lives, as the ancient people thought. Fortune alone cannot bring success and b 'miness. The future calls to us, the class of 1928. With the materials of study and experience that our four years of High School have given us. may we weave our lives into beautiful, harmonizing tap- estries. Then shall our lives be happy, prosperous, useful. Then shall we not live in vain. To this future we go forward, hapny, thankful, expectant, eager to do great things, to be of value to the world. Our High School career is but the framework of our tapes- try. May we ever weave the threads of true greatness. “I would be true, for there arc those who trust me; I would be pure, for there are those who care; I would be strong, for there is much to suffer; I would be brave for there is much to dare; I would be friend to all,—the foe. the friendless; I would be giving, and forget the gift; I would be humble, for I know my weakness; I would look up, and laugh, and love, and lift.” PAGE TWENTY-THREE

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The color dims and we find ourselves gazing once more and reminiscing on Longfellow’s lines “Our fortunes must be wrought.” Time, toil and hardships—these he discovered in daily experiences. Meeting and battling with them he realized the mis- sion of the flaming forge of life. And so we are beginning to real- ize tonight our mission, the thought of which is beautiful in its solemnity, sorrowful in its omnipotence in departing from its ear- ly life and leaving for wider fields, for larger fires and greater an- vils. Each will manage and direct for himself just as the village blacksmith performed his daily tasks at the open door. Tonight, friends and classmates, we are sad at our farewell. But a feeling reigns significant of the future. It pictures for us the golden days, showered with good fortune, that we could have wrought at the flaming forge. The anvil sounds its last note, the echo fades away, and we find ourselves treading along the highways to a future that we are shaping for ourselves from our burning deeds and thoughts. G. H. 0. PAGE TWENTY-FIVE