East High School - Orient Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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Class Poem I. A glorious summer clay has spent its strength The glowing, round, red sun has sunk from sight. The verdant hills are clothed in purple splendor And crimson skies announce the approach of night. 11. I he soft warm breezes fan the lofty trees, And bend and kiss the waters of the stream, Which, rushing onward in its hurrying course. Sparkles and glistens in the golden gleam. III. And in this sheltered valley ’ncath the hills, A tiny cottage nestles, the hills, in this way Protected from each wind and stormy blast Which might have swept its frail form away. IV. And now the sun’s warm glow has passed away. The fleeting clouds have lost their golden light. The moon has risen ’hove the tumbling waves, And casts upward the stream her glimmer bright. V. And now from out the cot its dwellers come, The gray-haired father, with his faithful wife Upon his arm, with faces sad and wise. To start their son upon his future life. VI. The boys stands lingering on the grassy bank. And casts his wistful eyes, so frank, so bright. Upon the well known hills, the home of youth. Which seem more luring in the silver light. VII. A yearning sadness clouds his youthful face. A pang of sorrow seems to cleave his breast. A longing for tlu things now passed away, A dread to start out on this unknown quest. VIII. His father lays his hand upon his arm. And pointing towards the waters gliding there, lie guides him to the path of righteousness. And warns him of the evils which ensnare. IX. • M son. that is the river Life. he says. To-night you set out on your lonely course. To-night you leave this tender home of youth, Pis well you leave it. not without remorse. 12

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Darrell Boyd Treasurer Class Officers, 1906

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X. This river rises many miles above. And frolics all the way, but roughens more, A little down below, and ’round that bend, To safely pass it needs a steady oar. XI. Up here, the kind hills hide it from the wind. But farther down are neither hills nor trees. And if not on your guard, you will be tossed Upon the shore, by each brisk blowing breeze. XII. And all along the way are wicked ports Which but allure the youth, and perjure him To do rash follies, and but draw him on To paths of wrong, of wickedness and sin. XIII. Yield not to them, nor even stop to rest. For some rude tempter, then, will chance your way, And by his artful pldns and pleasing words. Will surely cause you from the truth to stray. XIV. Just one word more before you leave us, ooy. This river is. Oh! many fathoms deep. And many sharp rocks jut from out its depths, And from their paths this is the way to keep. XV. You see that silver light the pale moon casts? That is the path of righteousness, my boy, But steer in that, and every rock you’ll see, And now, farewell, my only son, my joy.” XVI. A flash of pleasure lights the boy's sad face, Here is a goal to reach, a pledge to keep; And now he joyfully unmoors the boat And launches out upon a fearless deep. XVII. Away he glides, straight in that silver path, And at the bend he rises in the light. And silhoueted 'gainst the starry skies, With hand to brow, he disappears from sight. GLADYS MAY BARBER