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

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OAK LEAVES THE VOWS Her face alight with holy smile, Her body clothed in virgin white, Like the lilies on her arm, up the church aisle She comes, her sacred troth to plight. And he is th-ere erect and strong To pledge, as loving hands they clasp, To guard her from all worldly Wrong As long as both their lives shall last. E. W., '36 AESTHETIC CLASS INTERPRETING BEETHOVENS MOONLIGHT SONATA 15

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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

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OAK LEAVES FEATHER MOON A moon, more like a feather than a moon, Was spilling silver in a careless way, Upon a pine tree, where it stood blue-grey In shadows from the hill. A World so still The thought of you came like a rushing wind, Untying shadows that had lain half-pinned To earth, and bruising through the evening air, Which lay as quiet as a grey-eyed pool, Wrapped in soft shadows, purpl-e-tinged and cool. Almost, I thought I had forgotten youg I had supposed a feather moon was quite Enough. You came: and everywhere the night Drew by, and framed a background for your face. Slip of a thing, you swayed beneath those trees Whose branches only stir for stoutest breeze, And I, who hold no faith in phantom ghost, Watched your slim finger push aside the veil Of clinging memory, and saw you, frail As breath of summer wind, stand clearly there. Wing of a bird against the quivering leaf, Falls no more lightly than your glance, as brief As drifting flakes oct' winter's snow. You smiled-I think-and, stir of wind, were gone, While over the sky a passing cloud was drawn, That dipped the world in sudden velvet dark. Now, I have always fear lest I shall see A feather moon spill silver on a tree. M.M. - OCCIDENT AND ORIENT Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's Great Judgment Seat. These prophetic lines of Kipling are so often quoted only in part that many persons know only the first line that gives an impression quite unlike the complete thought of the two, and immediately raises the question in our mind whether the Orient and the Occident could become as one. If such a thing be possible, there must be something in common between the two, 14