Manchester High School - Somanhis Yearbook (Manchester, CT)

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Q SONNETS FRUM THE SENIORS Grasp in the glittering ice the stars' bright name, Reach for aurora's Ilres above the pole, The night that lends illusion is the same That hides 'the shallow coldness of thy soulg 'rhe depths of light within are but deceit, Reflections struck from out a mirror pale Like bow-ilung fleeting arrow heads that meet And bound from steely links of hardened mailg Thou'rt proof against a universe's pain, Its laughter and its tears and all its joy: To move through life untouched, is this then gain, To live without emotion like a toy? Pray that some sun of love may touch thy heart And give thee in the dance of life a part. Margaret Quinn, '31 When weary of llfe's load all hope I spurn, And sick at heart from brooding discontent, I long for the road of destiny to turn And lead to happiness from Heaven sent. When all my sangulne hopes seem really dead, ' A ray of light just bright enough to show Shines through the clouds of gloom and doubt ahead, A rainbow in my tear drops while they flow. Low-whispering a voice floats soft and clear Like music on my ear it seems to sing. Thy Heaven, child,-is always now and here Thy duty do and joy to thee 'twill bring, Look up, and smile for lo! The sky is clear! And learn that happiness is always near. Susan Allen, '31 The sun kissed the evening sky a soft adieu, And left her blushing in rosy ecstasy. God hung the stars on the wall of midnight blue And shadows danced in weird swaying fan- tasy. Earth bathed in enchanting fragrance as a dying blossom Holds her breath lulled to dreams by Night's soft caresses. A yellow glow spreads o'er the hill's dark bosom The moon goddess shows her profile and ad- dresses The world with words of light and radiant grace Lightly gliding from a veil of silvery mist And like a dainty dancer lifts her face To smillngly receive the night wind's tender kiss. , She pauses on tiptoe, her beauty a soft hue Golden, silver, to light my way to you. Dorothy Fraser, '31 Like ancient molten bells that call again Thru the obscured night made fair by silent wings, As strange memories that still pain, Or of deathless music that in sobbing, rings, Your face comes back to me, and lightly wakes The old dim times that I have laid away. Fearing these halt forgotten dreams that break My heart with ghosts it can not stay I thought noloveliness could hurt me now,

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20 'HSOMANHIS - A and France during the Middle Ages, there were sacred plays at Christmas, depicting the birth of Christ. But these ceremonies are not so important as the Spirit of Christmas , the spirit of giv- Ing, of helping-and a broad, loving, welcome for our countrymen. The giving of presents, the use of holly, mistletoe, Yule logs, the was- sail bowl, have all descended from the days of paganism, but they are things which set the day distinctly apart from the other holidays. Without the Christmas tree and Santa Claus for the little children, the day would be ln- complete and lose much of its deepest mean- lng. The custom of sending greeting cards started about hfty years ago. In recent years many cities have adopted the custom of cele- brating the festival as communities. The com- munity Chrlstmas tree is symbolic of that spirit of kindllness which moves people every- where to help the less fortunate. It is this element in Christmas that is the only Christ- ike feature. . M. Bushnell, '31 THE STUFF THAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF A much greater part of a person's life is spent in dreaming than anyone has ever real- ized. Sometimes when one is supposed to be concentrating and centering his weary, yet ever alert mind, on one thought, he dreams the most. He cannot concentrate-his thoughts just meander off into the highway of might- have-been- and maybe. Often it wanders into a happy channel and soothes and pacitles the soul and mind and other times it torment you and seems to tear at your heart and send your mind into a fervor of disturbance and unrest. This dreaming is an extravagance and a waste of time, yet almost everyone in- dulges in it. Sometimes dreaming has been responsible for many a success and yet has often caused a downfall. Many things cause a person to dream. Some- times it is the environment, sometimes wear- iness, and sometimes it is plain laziness. I think that music carries one s mind off most readily. Hundreds of times have I promised myself not to dream g yet, in vain. Before I realize it, I am miles away and dreaming, just dreaming of what might-have-been , or what maybe . A Virginia Straughan, '31 A SLANGUAGE Almost everyone is guilty of adding some new word or phrase to that dialect called 'slanguage. However, Dr. Frank Vizetelly, dean of Amer- ican lexographers, says that dead languages are dead because they had no slang to vivlfy them and that he, personally, gets a kick out of the expressiveness of American slang. There is a certain snappiness about slang: perhaps it is the spontaneous origin, that mak- es lt appeal to most young folks. Very often, the shorter the term, the stronger its force, but it, nevertheless, makes a common appeal. Some slang words express deeper thought than others. For example, And How is us- ually the quickest retort one can make when he is greeted with a startling piece of news and is at a loss for an intelligent com- ment. Thus we find truth in Henry L. Mene1civ's quotation, Slang is the source from which the energies of decaying speech are constantly re- freshed. D. Silcox, '31 V Y F MERRY CHRISTMAS, ,e EVERYONE!

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22 SOMANHIS Since I have ded from beauty, down the night HIDDEN But you return, and I must ever bow My 1198-G bBf01'9 YOUI' SCSYHSY of light- Sight does not fall me for the road that's I who may run star-shod, with windy hair Still Rnd you're too great a. thing for me to bear. Clara Strickland. '31 While dusk was lowering her robes of gray Which fell silently, shadowing the earth, I-Iastenlng the departure of the day, Chasing away its laughter and its mirth. I sat and watched a lonely, smoldering flame Play with its shadow on the stone, And thought of you, your lovely face the same As I had seen it last. I sat alone. I wished and dreamed that you would come again As you used to come in days of yore, I listened for your footstep, but in vain, For alas! I'll see you, dear, no more! The dusk grows thick, and the night becomes dark. The last dame tlickers and is but a spark. Irene Skinner, '31 HALLOWEEN A score of ghostly lingers on the wall, And shadows Hitting through the candle-light, Imaginary witches in the hall- At every hand a pucklsh ellln wlght. Outside a. hundred bats glide through the night. A pallid moon behind the murky clouds, One lonely star that quavers at its height, Trees looming up in wierdly silent shrouds, and night-birds rushing by in trembling crowds. Marian Janes, '31 WHY IS NIGHT 'Whatir de stars fo, Mummy, An' whyiv dere eyes s'bright? I Dey's to see wif, honey: ,To see black folks at night. An' what's de moon fo, Mammy, An' why's his mout so wide? His mouf's for chawin' white folks Dats awful black eensidef' Winston Hudson, '34 done. For memory counts the toll of lost and won On the little way since time began for me. My eyes are blinded by the mist that hangs Over tomorrow's path and all its pangs That weave the darkness in the web ot joy. Once I walked swiftly for a little space Once like one lamed I held my halting pace. But of what was, can I say will be. too? Alas, time's shadows do not yield their reign Their clinging cobwebs log my seeking brain And bind my foresight when it would be tree. And not one inch the will be of the years, Yields to the straining gaze that onward peers IIIIO U18 bl8.Ckl1BSS of the coming WBY. So must I bend my head and travel on, Groping by signs that have been and are gone, Walking in darkness tlll the road is done. M. Quinn, '81 . COMMON PLACE I dwelt alone on a mountain In the rare, sweet, lifting alr Knowing naught else but beauty, Needing no friendships there. I walked alone in the valley Shiverlng, sad and afraid. The selfish years of my high abode Brought to me there no aid. ' Now on the level stretches Where the common rabble throng Giving and taking friendships I learn lite's sweetest song. Susan Allen '31