Main Avenue High School - El Sombrero Yearbook (San Antonio, TX)

Page 13 text:

Belrold! This mass of cold, grey stone! Majestic, bold, and seemingly alone, It stands apart! Here beats the Heart, Here lives the ruling brain of Main! Here’s the assembly hall of dazzling white, Where the orchestras blare forth to our delight. Here great men speak on many a wondrous thing. Here do we cheer them on, or loudly sing! The office, is this tiny room, ’Tis quiet as some ancient tomb— For here the pink slips come and go In an unending, awful flow! Here students paint the trees and sky— Is dedicated to Art. This room, upon the roof perched high. Each paints what most delights his heart! Beneath—deep roots the music of this place, Here harmonies in perfect grace— On violins, or other strings—keep pace With the choruses of boys—in tuneful race! Full many a room holds glories hard to tell, Tho we don’t love these studies very well. Here grim typewriters wildly tap away. Or shorthand “sharks” take notes all day. Here Latin flows, here orators orate, Or Physiology fills many a pate! There Physics, Botany and Chemistry. The “Huisache’’ office—and now last and best— Our Matron’s rooms of peace and sleep and rest! Nay, hold! What odor fills the halls? The Cafeteria to dinner calls! So runs the order of the day. And none are sad and all are gay! 9

Page 12 text:

 Artistic, honored structure, dark and old. Half-hid among the many trees that try With their dense leaves to hide from every eye The beauty of your front, so grim and bold. In pictures only do we know you now. For you have vanished into dust by now, And in your ashes now a larger kind Of nobler structure tries to take your place And imitate your soft, old-fashioned grace! For thirty years, or more, you reigned supreme And cast on all the town the white, bright beam Of your intelligence! Your kind Of beauty now, indeed, is hard to find! 8 J. S. M.

Page 14 text:

A noisy, noisy building tho thou art. From you it’s hard, it’s hard, indeed, to part Your four large study-halls, where no one tries To study—very much—but winks his eyes And listens what his neighbor has to say. Drive all such foolish thoughts as studying away. And what a rendezvous you library To lovers sure must be; For here they wander beneath a dreamy look. To meet a girl, and not to read a book. Your upper wings contain some pleasant things Tall building! French is one! And Soild Geom! and Trigonom! And English, hard to comprehend. While just helow does Spanish lend Its deep, beguiling tone. Long-drawn out Civics and great History Give also of their eloquence, To lead the student in a trance Of kind good humor, into virtue’s ways That he may prosper all his days. .T. s. M.