New York University School of Education - Education Violet Yearbook (New York, NY)

Page 152 text:

The Sea ahdl I have gone down To the sea, For it is there That I belong. ' With the sun, With the waves, Buffeting the fog The winds and rain. And when the winter comes And snow is everywhere, I can find A peaceful cottage By the sea! Watch the ocean Creep up closeg Watch the moon, Who pulls it backg Watch the little Fishing vessels Come and go. I will live ' And I will play On the white sands Of the beach. Where wreckage Piles up high On stormy days. And if the waves should call I would gladly go, Submerge myself, And drink The salt sea's spume. Dkmudon Dusk had descended and the impetuous wind Whipped me as I followed the path Where the underbrush cut into my tender flesh Eagerly I pushed onward 'til my veins swelled And my blood spurred like hot, bubbling lava. As I neared the rendezvous, I feigned indifference Turned laggard and made a casual approach. Urge to surprise lightened my foot steps And I entered the Garden of my Utopia Where another entwined herself about the Idol I had come to worship. A 152

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To 'I'he Down to the sea you go, my friend, Down to the sea in a ship. You view again the cobalt frame Of Africa's northern tip. You view again Sahara's sand, You search for treasures rare, You walk again with ghostly kings And ghostly ladies fair. You walk along the Corridors Of thousand years of fame, You penetrate the Morocco-land, A thousand years the same. Down to the sea in a ship you go, Down to the sea again To see, to hear, to learn, to know Of places, things, and men. Moods Moods are strange, bewildering ghosts Of other things, of other dreams, That flicker, change and go, like hosts Of butterflies a-wing it seems. Oft times, like sunbeams bright and gay They dance upon your brook of thought While every wavelet seems to play A tune that brooks alone are taught. On a sudden, flowers dieg Their lilting minstrelsy, it fades, And cold, grey snowflakes swiftly fly To still the brook in leaden shades. Moods are strange bewildering ghosts That never seem just quite at ease, They change their homes, their hosts, Like trembling butterflies, like bees. 151 Friend Who ls Going Again

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I Help Read a Paper in +l1e Subway Sat a woman with a paper And a sanguinary grin. And I wondered what had made her Double up her double chin. There was a vacant seat beside her, And I got it, quite by chance. My head moved across her shoulder, And I merely took one glance. Read about the infant murder Headlines sprawled across the page, Six men killed by a falling girder, The result of the spite of a man in a rage. Suicide of a big stock broker, Big ship lost with all aboard. Captain dies, denounced by a stoker, England mourns the death of a lord. Pistol used on a court attendant: House of a judge blown up in revenge: Opposing council killed by defendant: Baby choked by means of a sponge. Policeman lives a little longer, Shucks, a woman said, How can a man get any stronger With three bullet wounds in his head? And as my eye roved over the page I saw an item which read, The present is a most civilized age, In view of the facts, well said. Day Dream A tur uoise lagoon of sky, Withqbanks of peachbloom Warm and tender as caresses Hung low, While high o'erhead Through sun-warmed, tree-cooled paths I saw A solitary bird t V Winging West through the Drowsy blue Of the heavens. 153