Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA)

 - Class of 1933

Page 17 of 92

 

Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA) online collection, 1933 Edition, Page 17 of 92
Page 17 of 92



Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA) online collection, 1933 Edition, Page 16
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Page 17 text:

Sonnet I’ve seen them trudge along the dusty road, Stooped o’er and bent beneath their heaviness ; I’ve watched them slowly climb the hills, and press Forward with leaden steps, under their load And sagging burdens ; I’ve seen their mode Of living — those coarse men ; nor from the stress And blank vicissitudes do they di- gress, But wearily plodding before the goad Of stark necessity their hapless way Pursue — benumbed and deadened creatures. Day On day they may be seen struggling along The upper-highlands silhouetted out Against the grayness of the darken- ing sky And stumbling downward to the distant Valley. — Edward Rhodes. My Garden Before the morning of my life A fairy made for me A garden, beautiful. She foresaw how life Would be for me In the outside world, So she gave me a place Where I might hide From storms — From pelting, stinging words She filled it with flowers She knew that I would love, And made them more odorous Than dawn on a hill In springtime ; And when I am more lonely Than a leaf That a mischievous bird Has brushed with its wing And separated from its mates, I run into my garden. — Charles Bailey. My Days “One day Is like another. No, that is Not true. Some are spun From golden Thread, And some Are shadowed blue. Some are days When Heaven Tries To pass itself For earth. Some go down In darkest Clouds That had the Brightest birth Some go tearful All the Wav, And some Come smiling Through Their tears, while Some Are like the days T spent With You.” — C. Bailey. 15

Page 16 text:

a tang of the salt air floats in from the sea on a mad, white-capped wave. A gull may fly over now and then, while out on the sandbar they flock in whole families to debate the possible question of food, like old maids, squabbling and splashing around in their excitement. No doubt the same sight was seen by the Mayflower crew when it sailed into the harbor so long ago. In our more expansive moods we should visit hill or beach where the eye and mind are bounded only by sky and sea, but on ordinary days our stranger shall enter from the south side, when he at once sees an example of a very fine old church. It is the old South Meeting House with its stern, stalwart columns sup- porting its truly classical symmetry. The beauty and grandeur of its stately dimensions are Grecian, but the spirit of it is New England and proves that those who built it had a certain sense of beauty and pro- portion. The church makes me forget the mill, and the twentieth century in- dustries, and th e railroad, and the ant-hills of houses. And instinctive- ly I look to the left at the fine old Whipple House, built, according to tradition, in the year 1640, (but I like to think that it was earlier and closer to 1636). It is interesting because it is an example of our old New England with its low, sloping roof, old rambling chimney, the overhang, its diamond-shaped win- dows, the brown shingles, and the old millstone at the double oak door. I find it rather sad, though, like a monument to a dear friend who has passed on to another world. I feel that some day IT1 write about that old house and try to get closer to it. But now let’s move across the road to the old Heard House. As we do this, we step into the next century — the eighteenth. It is a typical product of the architecture of that period ; it is beautiful, but in a different way. The three-stor- ied buildings came in at that time and we have very good examples of this type on Essex Street in Salem, and on High Street in Newburyport. These houses were built by ship men, being very large and simple, unlike the frosted-cake stuff or the jig-saw houses of a later and less artistic period. Along South Main Street we move to the old Choate Bridge, a double- arch bridge built in 1764. It is the oldest of its kind in America — an- other solid structure as solid as the pioneer souls who built it. And that bridge draws us from the road, be- neath its great arches, to follow the river along its intricate windings and broad bends, out towards the sea. On both sides we pass several other old houses before coming to another bridge. We have become dreamy and thoughtful from our wanderings into the past centuries, and as we gaze dreamily around us we look upon a hard-looking, iron- barred structure. The paradox of a “tenantless jail,” in this age, re- minds us that we are back in the twentieth century. Oh, Twentieth Century! I realize that we should not let ourselves be carried away like this. We must move on for the sake of the great, gaunt, unfeeling god “PROGRESS” — But, Alas ! I am a romanticist. — Eleanor Mitchell, ’33. 14



Page 18 text:

Song to My Heart When the Moon Rides High Sing, dear heart ! for the moon rides high, And the soft clouds float in a won- der sky ! Sing, dear heart! for the stars shine far, And the soft wind calls from across the bar! O, sing me the song of the wander- lust ! The whole world calls, and I know that I must ! — C. Bailey Graduation Essays World Peace By Anne Patch T HE story of war is the story of the human race. War has al- ways been the method of solving disputes between men. In the days of the caveman, war meant one bur- ly human being armed with a club pursuing another of his kind on foot. Then came the Romans with their daggers and the phalanx. Af- ter the glory of the Roman Empire had faded, there came the crusa- ders, warriors fighting for the Holy Land. Later with the passing of this epoch, during the One Hundred Years War between France and England, firearms became known to the western world. And the inven- tive process has gone on, a new im- plement for killing in each succeed- ing struggle until we have seen the part which the submarine, airplane, machine gun, and gas have played in the recent world conflict. Far-seeing men, looking on the trend of modern war and the in- creasing destruction of modern life have sought to establish world peace. One of the first men to want to do something to attain this end was Ladd, an early American states- man who, in 1840, published a vol- ume called “Essay on a Congress of Nations for the Adjustment of In- ternational Disputes Without Re- sort to Arms.” This essay he circu- lated widely among the “crowned heads and leading men of Christen- dom. ” In this essay, Ladd proposed a twofold organization, a Congress and a court of nations. The Con- gress of Nations that he had in mind was the First Peace Confer- ence which in reality did not open until May 18, 1899 at the Hague and his court of nations with the Permanent Court of International Justice of 1920. The First Peace Conference was assembled through the initiative of Czar Nicholas the Second on his birthday. This con- ference was called to attempt to re- duce the heavy armaments of the European countries and to regulate the conduct of war. The United States was a member of this confer- ence, and our representatives earn- estly endeavored to make the par- ley a success. The First Peace Con- ference resulted in the Permanent Court of Arbitration. This tribunal was only the beginning of a world court and had many faults. There was nothing to compel agreement to the decisions of the court or noth- 16

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Ipswich High School - Tiger Yearbook (Ipswich, MA) online collection, 1932 Edition, Page 1

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