East High School - Orient Yearbook (Rochester, NY)

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T If IQIENT OF 1930 ANNUAL PUBLICATION of tha JANUARY AND JUNE SENIOR CLASSES Of EAST HIGH SCHOOL ROCHESTER, NEW YORK

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.Q - ' f in, A. IKM It .Ig I 5 f hltgsi L -V A si- fMfu Q22 Z SMX -I 1 Q 0 I 'z' Q .' 331. ' I fi I s +I 4, an ' l. OUR ANCESTORS HAVE TURNED A SAVAGE WILDERNESS INTO A GLORIOUS EMPIRE. -EDMUND BURKE

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M INUETTO TEM PO Smiles, nods, bows, Lace, wigs, scent Of lavender, blushes Pink, and silver buckles. Salts and fainting ladies, Curls and gallant men, Swords, fans, love And orison fervent. ALMA MATER lg fr , Sob gently, muted strings, Fl, J L ' Like dear friends' parting sighs, 5 Ulf ic . L. And O you silver flutes, . .' Y ., L To drop your diamond tear Into this golden cup 3 'jg Of fondest memories. f Soft woodwinds, say farewell if For us, but not too sad. : W , - . ? Now, valiant trumpets, shout -i Our entry in the world! ,-,a y , if 1 lr 'V' 1 5 ., 1: - CDNVENTIDNS DF TIQANSITIDNS PRELUDE lnvoke the harpist Orpheus and his soft-throated Muses nine to help You sing the song that's in your heart, or call on Pan to pipe his tune Along with yours, but sing you must and will. Why, man, thru all the ages You have spun your lay. Tho sometimes ut and ofttimes re, it all Resolved into the world's deep organ tone of your eternal strife. KALEIDOSCOPE FOX TROT TIM E Babylon built again of screaming Angles and cubes of solid greys Shooting along paths of conglomerate Straight lines, sneering in Creation's face. Babylon of flesh, smoke, and gin- Painted lips, sensuous hips, Legs, and pounding, pounding drums, Pulse of a machine-crazed nation. INTERLUDE Between two lullabies The baby fought its mirrored image, Then, disappointed, cried For moons between two feathery cradles. GRAD BLUES l got them graduatin' blues, Them aggravatin', palpitatin', Graduatin' blues. But say There, say you moanin' saxophones, Don't weep so loud. Of course it's true That all them boys and all them girls, And all them gay, mad, careless whirls We'll see no more. But, Baby, I say There, Baby, there's more of them out there. So get hot, you sizzlin' saxophonesl POSTLUDE This restless wandering of Future into Past is quick as death And slow as melting suns. It looms ahead of us as we hght on if fi With naked hungers and with bleeding lingers, like mirages in 1 j . i, A tropic sky. But when we look behind, it mocks at us from ruins ff 1 Of an erstwhile Now. Then maddened, we combat the raging elements T QQ And harness them unto a long-ordainedlpurpose, short as life, Unto the swift-winged Present, that which is so fleet that it is not. 'Q 4 We cannot put our finger onlt without intruding in the past. !.,. ' ' 1 g'- I ,vw i .Q1 741, il, t in.,-' . gi I YY va . if plz' A L l in 'x 1 Now, we say, but ere the word is formed, it s gone the way of memories. JCARL A. WIRTH