Oakfield High School - Acorn Yearbook (Oakfield, ME)

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LITERATURE CURSED BE YE MAN Cursed be ye man, For all your thoughts Of lust, avarice, and sin. Cursed be ye man, For all your faults, Your wicked minds, your grins. Does not that brain given you by God Enable you to know, That you were chosen by Him above To rule this world so low? But you heed not such thoughts of God, For pleasing to your lowly self Are things made not by God, but man- Things made to lessen toils of life. So, led unconsciously by greed, You let your gift'd minds be still, And, like the lowly, ignorant dog, Plunge freely into war and strife. Not even lessons of the past, Can sway your stubborn brain. And though you know it to be wrong, You let war come again. Cursed be ye man, For keeping thoughts Of lust, avarice, and sin. Cursed be ye man, For all your faults, Your wicked minds, your grins. Buddy Traver, English IV +1 WHY! Why is the earth so round and large, The sky so big and blue? Why is the sun so far away? O, how I wish I knew. Why does the rain fall in the spring, The moon light up at night? I cannot find an aqnswer Though I try with all my might. O, lots of things do puzzle me, And keep me in the dark, But after all-what is this life But just a question mark? A Senior, English IV 35

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LITERATURE WHY BOTHER! Why bother to struggle for a place in the world, For soon the stone of defeat is hurled? The cheat, the cad, care little for life- They'd rather just glide, not tasting the strife, Why bother to live under aged traditions When before us they're discarded for other conditions? Is it worthwhile to live in honor's dwelling When each day honor is quickly selling To those who like to live the easy Way? Why bother to strive for life each day When we, like others, can buy our way? Betty Jordan, English IV. 14.- A DOUBLE LIMERICK There was a young fellow named Walker, Who never was much of a talker, But he met with Irene And she's such a queen That he'd soon said more than he'd ought'er. The Latin verb amo he did conjugate Past, present, and future, from early till late. He did it so Well That for it she fell, And so that's how Miss Hill met her fate. Dorothy Yunker, English IV. :+... SONNET TO MISS PRIOR To her who stood by us but three short years, Who coached us in our English three and four, For her will flow unstintedly our tears, As Oakfield High will know her help no more. Through the golden days of next September We hope that thoughts of us will still remain And in her work our love she will remember And forever think of Oakfield as the same. But yet We know long after she's gone, That to us like a song from days of old Her merry tones will ever linger on, Almost as if she still were in our fold. And though life's paths may take us far asunder, 'Tis true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Dorothy Yunker, English IV. 34

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LITERATURE THE CLOCK Just see the clock upon the shelf, It always goes tick-tock . It cannot swim, it cannot Hy, It cannot creep nor walk. It has two hands, but strange to say, It hasn't any feet. But still it runs on day by day, It really can't be beat. It has no pencil in its hands, But still it marks the time, It has no brains within its face To reason or to rhyme. It never tires, but keeps its hands A-going 'round and 'round, Both day and night, and never stops If just you keep it wound. Now, boys and girls, be like the clock Be faithful to your task! Just mind your business all the time That's all the world will ask. Fern Shepard, English IV ..-.41-. FROM THE STUDY HALL My gaze to the window wanders And takes in the scene outside- The apple trees in blossom, And the greening countryside. I can see close by the railroad, With an occasional long dark train, Smoke from the stack is billowing As the fire is stoked again. I can see the street and houses, And the gardens filled with vines, And sometimes children playing, And washings on the lines. Afar are the crops and the fields- A patchwork of green and brown, Where the crops already are growing And where the plow has turned the ground I'm sharply recalled from my wandering The first bell ends my fun, And I'll be caught again today Without my English done! William Wilder, English IV 36