Norman High School - Eagle Yearbook (Norman, AR)

Page 19 text:

,- f ,,. ,.-,rx. . - -. Y .. CLASS EULOGY Mozelle Wats on Friends, teachers, undergraduates, give ear. I come to praise the Seniors, not inter them. The foolish things we do are kept in mind: Our worthwhile deeds, alas, too oft forgot! So be it not with Seniors. Their noble classmates Have told you that they we re ambitious, And so they were--a virture great, indeed-- And nobly did they realize their aim. Here, under leave of all their loving friends, Come I, the Senior Class, to eulogize. They have brought many honors to their school: The spoils of sport, of contest and debate: Their scholarship was high beyond compare. Their records are a wondrous legacy, Which they bequeath to you who follow them. Their every breath was loyal, and their hearts Beat warm and high with love for this, their school Their Alma Mater was a sacred flame On which they poured the incense of their souls. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now, For never more the Senior Class shall shed The radiance of their smiles upon your way: Their brief existence here is past and gone. The wide world beckons them to vict'ries new. And what a loss is ours, my classmates all! There you and I and all of us lose joy And sweet companionship and faithful friends. We must not weep but hide our sadness grave And meditate instead upon their charm. Their intellect, and all their gracious ways. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of misery. They that have gone an inspiration high Have left to us: their memory shall stay And urge us on and up to better things, To climp ambition's height, to grasp the stars And follow humbly in their upward path. They were so fine, so wise, so honorable! No wrong they did, no thought unworthy dreamed, And theirs will be eternal, happy fame. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts, I am no orator, as they all were, But, as you see, a simple student, who Loves well his friends and does them honor here. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech 17

Page 18 text:

, ,f r M. 52Q'Q579'Nu f R, Q98 X This year seems hardest of all on us because we are Seniors. Even when we ordered our rings early, they were delayed about two months. Then some were too small and some too large, Nothing goes right for us. Then our pictures, five days late, were corny, silly, ugly and completely lifelike. Words just cou1dn't express our thoughts when we saw them. The weather has been against us, too. Because of losing the week from school when it rained so much, we had to change the date of graduation. Even our boys are scarce. We have only three in our class and Mrs.xBarr wou1dn't let the girls sit by us in English. Again we feel that we have more than ourhshare of bitter memories to carry with us from the ups and downs--but mostly downs of our high school career. When we were Freshmen, we lived in constant fear of every other class in school, but especially of our enemies, the heartless and unfeeling Sophomores. But when we were Sophomores ourselves, and naturally felt that it was our turn, the other classes all united to make us feel that ' We were neither man nor woman: We were neither brute nor human: We were Sophsf 16A

Page 20 text:

ink k 4 ,, ,, , ? 'X .Y-,.,, N. ,m'v,.,..-Y.,---Vvv,-..s,. -,., - Y. l, f....+uq..,-,w.....,. .,., W. ,. .-.Y H.. To stir your blood. I only speak right on. I tell you that which you yourselves do know: The virtues of the Senior Class, their deeds So noble, so unselfish, and so wise, And bid them speak for me: but were I they And they were I, there were an orator Would agitate your hearts and put a tongue In eve ry Senior glory, that should move The very stones to rise and weep for them. Moreover, they have left to you their place ln classroom and on campus walks so green Their private honors, their authority In hall and council: they have left them you And to your heirs forever--sacred trust To be by you in loving awe received! Revere their names and spread their fame abroad. Here was a class! When comes another such? OUR YESTERDAYS Floella Gaston Let us pass from these gray walls, Out into a world our very own: But may each step be a prayer, That no regrets be sown. Worlds yet unknown to traverse, While memories linger still: And fond recollections haunt our being, To make our dreams fulfill. To our parents lift the banner high, And speak no more of sacrifice: But only praise and commendation give, As for us, our dear parents paid the price. Each day for us a prayer was said, And our burdens and tasks made easier: As sleepless nights for us were spent, That our future courses be happier. To our teachers, a salute we give, For our tasks, with patience you have borne: - 'Y qmmwrnnmmyfq,-W--A,-wr s . -, ,,.,g.m-kv And spoke courage to our hearts when darkness enthroned, But mute to critics, as our lives you adorn. Now, we bid adieu to our yesterdays, As grief and sadness come to our heart: But may our path to those left behind, Be a beacon to them as weidepart. 18 W.,