Milford High School - Oak Lily and Ivy Yearbook (Milford, MA)

Page 33 text:

THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. 29 But oh, for skies of azure hue, To sleep ’neath Venetian stars, To hear midst gladsome, happy dreams Songs of gondoliers. In Russia’s cold and dismal steppes I do not linger there; For warmer, brighter lands I yearn, Where I may feel no care. I climb the cliffs of Switzerland, The Alps: eternal wall. Midst snow and cold abyss of air Up mountain sides so tall. To olive-skinned, enchanting Spain Whose gallant troubadours Pay court to dark-eyed girls who dance To sound of their tambours. I linger long on Asia’s strands, Her jewels rare to see, Who lifts her minarets o’er ground Black with the cypress tree. To many other lands I drift, And wander aimlessly. I tire at last of foreign scenes, My own land long to see. America, I long for thee, Oh, land of liberty, Oh, soil where pilgrim fathers trod, No other land for me. Here brooks, whose lilting music sooths The soul; and rapture sweet Steals over me and gives loved peace And rest to wearied feet. The old ships sail to home again, The young ships sail away, But I have found my port at last, And I am here to stay. Ruth Cheney, 1923.

Page 32 text:

28 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. But if the days are wet and drear and cold And by the fire indoors I needs must stay, Among great deeds, brave knights and tales of old, With kings and queens I wile the time away; So while good tales and poems beside me lie, Let tempests loudly wail, for what care I ? Flora M. Youngson, 1923. WANDERLUST. Beyond the East the rising sun, Beyond the West the sea, And in them both the wanderlust That will not let me be. My dreams soar high in winged flight; In brightest fantasy I roam and roam an endless path, Nor rest, though weary be. I hear the ocean’s luring call, And when the angry waves Beat up against the rocks and shore, The salt air then I crave. The road, I know not . where it winds, Nor where the river goes; The gypsy blood pervades my veins, And through them quickly flows. The blue hills seem to beckon me To lands of mystic charm, To lands where lotus blossoms sweet Give out their healing balm. And now to Egypt’s deserts wide, I wend my joyful way, By camel’s easy, graceful stride, And the howdah’s awkward sway. To classic Greece my steps now turn, Where lakes in silvery sheen Abound midst vales of palm and pine, And fairy woodlands green. To smiling, sunny, dauntless France, Whose old chateaux and towers Seem dull and grey, yet proud of mien From out their frames of flowers.

Page 34 text:

30 THE OAK, LILY AND IVY. DISCONTENT. We view the mountains towering high, And fain would prospect there, Whilst hidden underneath our feet Are beds of jewels rare. As frail craft tossed on restless seas, We wander to and fro, Hoping some treasures near to find, A secret thing to know. We envy him of high estate, And cast a wistful eye Upon a brother’s blade of grass That flourisheth near by. Our store is full, yet still we crave, Nor seek to curb our will, We love to view the plain below From off the highest hill. The rose is trampled underfoot To pluck the briar thorn; We grasp for what we long have sighed And lo! are left forlorn. With all the wealth of ages ours Alas! that we should find How poor we are, if we possess A discontented mind. Innes McRae, 1923. LIGHT ESSAYS. Note:—The following were written in imitation of the style of certain “airy trifles” by Hilaire Belloc, Leacok, Beerbohm, etc., read in class. HAIRPINS. Hairpins are the bane of my life. I truly believe that there is no other requisite of the feminine toilet which can be so troublesome. Men complain of collar buttons. And they require, if I am not mistaken, only two at one time. Just think of it! Only two of these things need be produced at once. And then they think they are abused. I wonder what they would do if they required twenty or twenty-five of them. It is perfectly amazing how many hairpins manage to vanish into thin air. I go down town and purchase a supply which seems sufficient to last me at least a month. And upon my word, within a week, I am absolutely hairpinless.