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

Page 25 text:

OAK LEAVES IN A PULLMAN The miles slip away beneath me, The miles filled with silent houses In which the hurrying millions Are for a moment hushed in sleepg The roaring streets of the city In which the hurrying millions Feverishly seek for pleasureg But what are miles? I live in the room of my heart, The room lighted by your eyes And warmed by your smile. The hurrying millions fly pastg But I care not, Except to pity them for a moment - You do not live in their hearts. W., '38. MOONLIGHT AT LANAIKI A cool, sweet breeze is blowing across the face of the Pali whose great smooth precipice stands as a bulwark to guard the island folk from the onslaught of the ocean waves. The one-thousand foot sheer drop makes it seem as if ia giant with a huge knife had sliced off the mountainside for s-everal hundred feet and left it smooth. An eerie feeling of emptiness and strangeness runs through the veins of the spectator as he recalls the tragic tale the native Hawaiians tell concerning the Pali. When the famous King Kamehameha, who lived on a near-b-y island, came to Oahu he was so impressed by its wild beauty that he determined to make it a part of his domain. The natives of Oahu defended their homes valiantly but they were eutnumbered and as the battle went on they were driven back into the mountains. Finally, they were driven to the very edge of the Pali and made their last desperate stand until King Kameha- meha and his warriors drove them over the Pali where they perished as they fell to the rocks a thousand feet below. Only a few Oahuans lived to tell the tragic tale of their brave comrades when King Kamehameha conquered Oahu. But tonight there is nothing melancholy about this scene of ind-escribable beauty. Near the edge of the windswept bluff, little clumps of mountain grasses bend to and fro, seeming to dance in time with Zephyrus as he lulls them with his song. The trees stand like sage old sentinels guarding the site of that ancient battle while the wind is crooning a lullaby in their 25

Page 24 text:

OAK LEAVES , , YT, EPISODE It was merely a smile, a comforting hand, a kindly word- And it happened so long ago. But yesterday as I felt depressed, alone, I wandered into the wood. The playful brooklet smiled at me, And the graceful willows comforted me, The caroling 'birds sang their songs to meg But it was merely the thought of That smil, the comforting hand, and the kindly Word That lighted my heart. 22 ELEANOR IRELAND, '40.

Page 26 text:

OAK LEAVES branches. Through the calm night, and gazing down with Sphinx-like mystery that faintly pierces the dusky shadows with her luminous light, the full Hawaiian moon watches the scene. Inscrutable and aloof, who can deny that she may be recalling that fierce struggle of long ago when brown-skinned, noble-hearted men bravely Went down in defense of their homes. The crags which tower above send long shadows across the adjacent country and seem to be contemplating the landscape as though they were ancient shepherds watching over their flocks. In the fields at the base of the tall mountains, the vegetation is dimly silhouetted like the setting for some giant opera and after the overture of Nature's orchestra, the action begins. On the right side, against the edge of the steep and damp mountain, winds a road with a strong stone wall along its outer edge. In the darkness of the warm still night, stray autos glide along, winking their eyes as they dodge in and out along the winding road and seeming to play hid-e-and-seek as they appear and disappear. Below the Pali on the beach tonight, a festival is being held. The tantalizing odor of roast pork is Wafted along the beach from a column of smoke that rises in a long lazy spiral, and the folk are laughing gaily. A malihini would wonder what it was but a kamaina would know that those busy natives are eating poi, the main food of the Hawaiians. It is made by pounding the taro root and mixing it with water. The merry- makers are dipping two fingers into their calafbash or bowl which is filled with poi, and then twisting it around their fingers preliminary to eating it where knives and forks are quite unnecessary. The glowing rocks in yonder pit show where the roast pig was made ready for the feast and there is a primeval atmosphere about the feast that carries our thought far back through the centuries of civilization. Now swaying figures are moving gracefully back and forth as they take part in another typical Hawaiian custom. They are dancing the hula, which was originally a temple dance under the instruction of the priests and which illustrates one of the Hawaiian legends in action and song with graceful movements of hands and 'bodies, and with nods and becks and wreathed smiles . Strains of music, melodious and stirring, are chanted in the native tongue by the men who watch the dancers at this lua or Hawaiian feast. There is something so primeval and sincere in the whole scene and something so natural as we listen to the waves splashing, rolling and reced- ing along the beach that as we return to our own homer at Kamehameha we feel that for an hour we have turned back the pages of history to watch the same ceremony that might have been seen here a thousand years ago. LOUISE BARNES, '40. 24