Hunter College High School - Argus Yearbook (New York, NY)

Page 22 text:

The Better Light You are like a star That stares unblinkingly into the dark, Fearless. l am like a lamp That blinks and may be blown out with one breath At will. Yet even a star May be torn from its height and flung into Darkness. And a little lamp May burst forth into flame and set fire to The world. Rita O'Neill O Milkweed Little bit of fairy-down, floating on the breeze, It was l who set you free to wander as you please. I who plucked you from within the dried walls of your pod And set you free to find a bed in the unbroken sod. I who watched your merry way as you hurried into flight I who smiled a wistful smile as you faded from my sight, Little breath of balmy air, blowing glad and free, Find that bit of fairy-down and waft it back to mel llma Schramm twenty

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Now Louise is to Northshire gone, And to Livesy Hall did gae, But never did she speak a word, Throughout the live-long day. At midnight by the same auld stone, Louise again was back, She knew her lover would be there, For never had she spak. And just as the church bells chimed the hour The knight appeared once more, Ye have broken the spell and we will go To my mither in auld Lochoref' Four and twenty days went by, Then she received her dower, She and the Knight were wed that day And she was dedecked like a flower. They lived so happily on the hill, They did until they died, And when they came to bury them, They buried them side by side. Iulian Klein Poem lt's in the vibrating wind, In the lift of the red flower, The still-green shrub of the yard, In the bit of sky I gleam. It lives-the reason for life. Anne Bornstein nineteen

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My Dear Brother by Phoebe Rogoff Q HILE I would never have accused him of such f a thing, my mother insisted that my dear ' brother had leanings-musical leanings. And so, amid violent protests, dear loseph was placed, leanings and all, under the tutelage of one Mr. Tsutz. Now Mr. Tsutz was an Armenian and becomingly starving. Nevertheless he was a really hne player and never deserved the suffering ,he was hence- forth to undergo. For my dear brother's benefit, a piano was acquired at a moderate price, a piano such as one does not run up against every day. ln the first place, it had not the vigor which one ordinarily expects from a piano-it was a bit feeble, and this weakness was attributed to the fact that the instrument was, well, one might say, seasoned, To be exact, it hailed from the days when pianos were pianofortes, and it still retained that rare old flavor-no, better, tang-of the clavichord. Necessarily, it had developed in the course of its full life, a few odd habits, For instance, when an innocent player pressed one note, he was often rewarded by the sound of three, while if, at some more capricious moment, he pressed down two together, not a sound issued forth. The ivories were by now a deep, rich yellow, trimmed with black, which obviated frequent washings. Une leg was just a trifle shorter than the other, which gave the dear thing a Leaning-Tower-of-Pisa aspect. The stool, too, had a graceful slant, which necessitated intensive training before a sitter could feel perfectly confident of his seat. Scattered at random over the wood of the piano, were little carv- ings, evidences of the artistic inclinations of some former owner. And lastly, but by far the most perplexing, were the pedals, for on certain notes the right-hand pedal acted as a sustaining force, while on other notes it softened and on still others it had no effect whatsoever. We finally decided, however, not to use it at all, since we never knew whether the next note was going to sound anyhow, so why waste energy pressing down pedals? The glance which Mr. Tsutz bestowed on our venerable twentyaone l 1