Eastern High School of Commerce - Eastern Echo Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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EASTERN ECHO 57 A LITTLE BOY'S PRAYER Oh, Lord in Heaven, me please forgive, For all the naughty things l've done, For all the harm I've done to people, VVhich to me has just lieen fun. For taking IVIO1ll,S plum-jam, VVhich went all over my clean shirt, For putting that can on my doggie-'s tail, Gee, I hope it didn't hurt. For breaking old lXlarlow's window, And sticking my tongue out at him. Honest, I didn't mean it, It was sort of joke or a whim. For cutting the whiskers oi? the cat, Gee, but he did look funny, And for the apples I stole from the orchard, And please help the pain in my tummy! Forgive me for playing marliles, When told to hurry to the store. And for that fake penny I put in the hat for the poor. For taking the baby's candy, And pinching him when he cried, Honest, dear Lord, helieve me, To be a good lioy I've tried. But-for some reason I can't understand-Q PM ALVVAYS UP TU SOME'l'lllNti X,XL'l1l l'l'Yl And while I remember, please Forgive the pepper in Daddy's colfee. -.-Ida ill. fUllt'.N', SSS. 200. THE ANTIQUE SHOP The dust-laden air is heavy, Bronze candlestieks are standing As out of light we come Upon a cupboard rareg Q Into an old antique Shop, 'Tis made of oak that's dark with age Remote from the buzz and hum That speaks of kindly care. Of a busy, seething city The candlesticks are carved Beneath a smiling sun. With gay birds of the air. The ehail-S are Old and pl-ieelegg, And so once more we turn toward Tl-le pletul-es on the Wall The floor, which opened wide. Spell age, and beauty hidden Reveals the husy crowds that pass By a coat of dust, but all Our antique shop, outside.. Does ngt prevent the Seeker They do not know the wealth in Stull' ,From Ending worth not small. For those who come inside. -Margaret Liesmer, ID.

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56 EASTERN ECHO OUTSIDE MY WINDOW Outside my window a street-organ Was playing an old, old song, - lt opened for me the doors of a heaven, Closed so long, so long. Awakened were memories of long ago- Moonlit nights, a tropic shore, And waters blue-. I asked the man To play the song once more. And out in the dusk he played it, That long-forgotten tune, The song that brought back a heaven Lost too soon, too soon. -Florence Bates, 4S2, 300. Pale Dusk, with all Her mystic shadows, Is gone. The air lies still- Still as death, Night's shades are drawn. A languorous moon In pallid loveliness On high Keeps watch, With a million stars, Over a darkened sky. A wanton breeze Ruffles the waters blue- Blue except where the moon Casts her rays of silver hue And whispers in the trees. NIGHT SONG No children play About the little shepherd Of carven stone ln the garden, He is all alone. Roses, kissed by shiny dew, Sleep beside the cold, Gray wall - XfVhere stray moonbeams Like silver dust Gently fall, And only cricket songs Sound through The perfumed air: Night's magic spell Is everywhere. -Florence Bates, 4S2, 300 SANDS OF TIME When' we are born, the gods stoop down And fill their hands with sand. As years go by and we grow up, It trickles through each hand, Until at last we turn and look A single grain remains! It falls and we are taken back To the gods' demains. -Margaret Liesmer, lD.

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EASTERN ECHO THE R-100 Mighty monarch of the sky! See her as she floats on high, Now her shackles slip awayg Majestically she starts to sway. Now shels feeling for the Road Far above the surging crowd, VVhich with knitted, puzzled brow, VVears a gaze of rapture now. Long they watch in Wonderment, At this marvellous achievement, VVhich enables men to Hy, As the birds that soar on high. Her engines which were quiet before, Start first to throb and then to roar. Up! Up she goes and out to sea, VVith the crew working in harmony. She bids adieu, then turns her head, A Out where the German ship had led, In search of her guest, she sails to the west, To the land of plenty, which we love best. Half-way across, and all is well, This message to the world they tell: Ere another sun has risen and set, We'll have finished a trip welll ne'er forget. And 'tis true, as the sun sinks low in the west The ship glides on to her haven of rest, A few hours more and she is there at last, Shackled at length to the mooring mast. VV ith the first tint of day, Happy people and gay, View with great joy this master toy, As overhead she sways for joy. The sun streams o'er a city gay Because this ship is here today, A sight on which to feast one's eyes, Mighty monarch, Queen of the Skies. -Walter Terry, 2D-311.