Oak Grove Coburn High School - Oak Leaves Yearbook (Vassalboro, ME)

Page 13 text:

OAK LEAVES AMBITION REPOSE BRING TO ME MY BOW OF BURNING GOLD TWO MOODS Leave me not Within this purple twilight, Give back to me my crimson Wings, So I may soar into that realm of light, Where genius sings. Hear once again great thoughts of high degree, Which have be-en Wrought into a symphony Throughout the years. The sunset turns to gold the Western sky, The trees and bushes at my door Reflect the burnished lustre from on high,- Why ask for more? Upon my hearth, logs sing their humble tune, The house with candlelight is dressed, And when at night there shines a crescent moon, I am at rest. 11 M.M

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OAK LEAVES Washington. It might have been easy to grumble and complain at our in- convenience, but in the spirit of Oak Grove, a handicap had been sublimat- ed into an opportunity and we realized the truth of the philosopher who declared, It is not life that matters, it is the way we meet it. Could a more poignant sorrow come to any musician than that which would accompany deafness? Although his heart seemed broken and his soul torn, yet Beethoven triumphed over this handicap to give us music that will continue to pull at our heartstrings until the World is no more. We Will all meet these bafiling situations whether in the shape of mere inconveniences that are temporary or real tragedies that are lasting. It is for us to rise above them in a glorious way as Beethoven did. Once upon a time there was a young painter who had a genius in drawing and longed to paint, but his family was too poor to buy any materials for him. Undaunted, the young Titian used the juices of flowers for his colors and the walls of his father's humble cottage for his canvas. It is true that all our names may not be found in later editions of Who's Who, but it is equally true that our ability to face our stumbling blocks courageouslyg to say to them triumphantly, Behold our opportunity g and to persist in surmounting thos-e stumbling blocks with a joyous and triumphant spirit will mak-e each of our lives more worthy of mention, and will be the one thing more certain than anything else to bring us lasting happiness. If the electrical current is cut off, we must immediately seize an opportunity for a delightful Colonial party. If one road to our desired goal is lost, We must blaze a new trail to the goal of our heart's desires. Would Titian have learn-ed the minute details of color pigments had it not been necessary for him to blend so carefully the colors of his wild flowers? Could Beethoven have put his torn soul into immortal music if he had not first had a torn soul to express? One ship drives East and another West, While the self-same breezes blowg 'Tis the set of the sail and not the gale That bids them where to go. Like the winds of the air are the ways of fate As we journey on through lif-eg 'Tis the set of the soul that decides the goal And not the storm or the strife. GWEN CONEY, '36. 10

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OAK LEAVES FOR THOSE WHO SEE I never know the colors of the sunset that Nature will etch upon her great canvas, in a picture that will fill me with a deep sense of awe and humility as I witness the work of a wondrous Artist. When I awake in the morning, I never know how soon I may receive a fleeting -but heart-warm- ing and never-to-be-forgotten smile from some friend who desperately needed a word of encouragement just when things seemed diiiicult. I never know when I may see a lark soaring fearlessly into the blue of a summer sky and singing as it flies. I never know as I walk through a wooded lane when the fragrance of wild flowers may drift by, blown by tendrils of gentle breezes. I never know when the turn in a country road may bring me to a windblown field of nodding daisies, or when an early morning view from my window may reveal the dew like fairy silk spun on the morning grass. This beauty I have seen, beauty that has made me know there is some great power beyond our comprehension, some Divine source that scatters beauty everywhere for those who have eyes to see. AUDREY EVERETT, '36. BRIDGES Have you ever thought that 'bridges are like footpaths in the air? No history tells who 'built the first one, but Nature herself must have been man's teacher. Perhaps he saw a ready-made bridge where a tree had fallen across a stream. Perhaps he crossed in the air above by clinging to a twisted vine. Many times he must have gone far out of his way to find a shallow place or great boulders where he could jump from one to another until he had reached the opposite bank. Then there came a day when the genius of man rose and he was no longer dependent upon finding a place where Nature provided a bridge. He himself piled stones until they were higher than the water, and by and by he learned to place logs or a fallen tree across them. Centuries passed and gradually man developed skill in building real bridges. The ancient Romans developed the building of bridges to a fine art with strong arches that still exist today. The Roman models were followed by other nations, but gradually the wooden bridges were replaced by a combination of iron and timber with foundations of masonry. With the building of heavy trains, there was a new strain upon the bridges which called for the greatest science in order to prevent accidents. Today the majority of the great bridges of progres- sive companies are built of steel and masonry. .Some are of incredible length and endurance, spanning great rivers and extending so high in the air that the trans-Atlantic ships may sail beneath their spans. It is inter- esting to see how similar are the progress of civilization and the develop- ment of engineering skill in building bridges. R. C., '36. 12