Rye Neck High School - Scraps Yearbook (Mamaroneck, NY)

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ROADS TO ROAM It is fine to stay at home, And to sow and wait and reap, But for me, the roads to roam- Rather I, to sail the deep. Not a stirring epic, laid On a gory battle field, A far road, 'neath bristling shade, Rather I, of fir, concealed. Or the cloudfgazed redwoods high To my path, the rambling ways Of the South, from brazen sky To lend shelter. joyous days! Ere the roving lust has ceased, Off to icefstrewn Arctic's storm, To the gulfweed, and deceased Of Sargasso's haunted calm. To grow old, 'tis fine, at home In quiet till the last long sleep, But for me, the roads to roam- Rather I, to sail the deep. Judson Benjamin , MY HEAv'N HOME Oh cottage by the boundless sea, How tirm you stand, how cozily You're nestled back to welcome me When I'm ashore, For when away, I think of thee Still more and more. I think of friendships thou hast known, Those friendships started, bred, and grown Within thy walls of ivied stone, Beside thy hearth, And 'neath thy bowers so gently blown Above the earth. And then I'm sad that I'm away, I pine and wish that I might stay With thee until the end of day When life is done, And happiness of heav'n betray New life begun, Herbert R. Houghton, jr. PROMISES OF SPRING The Winter casts are bursting now, And buds do peep from out each bough, While brooks and swollen rivers wide Do rush their way to meet the tide. And robins perched on leafless limb Chant to the sun their morning hymn. ' Francis Beecher TO A CAT'S EYES Deep, wonderful pools of living green, In your depths is the smouldering fire Of Hate, Envy, Anger and Love. The ancient Priests of Egypt worshipped you, Calling you sacredw You turn your head, Those glowing emeralds shine upon us, You make us feel your presence, Give you our love, . You give us nothing . But those two glowing spots of light. Edward Pratt SOUTHLAND Oh! to be on the road for the Southlandf And breathing the air of the sea! Oh! to be gazing at blue sunny skies, And wandering, wandering free! Down South where the blue grass is waving, And the trees are whisp'ring in June, And the birds are happily singing, And one dances along to their tune. Not happier I than when roving along On roads to the Southland, heart singing a song! Audrey Hare THE FEVERfFAIRY The FeverfFairy sits upon my brow, Her hands are cold and chill, And thru my limbs, yet weaker now, Soft creeps a strange and deathlike still. It is the breaki-ng of a colder dawn, The Fever'Fairy I have wed- But she has risen now and gone, For I am cold and dead. Judson Benjamin Page Nine I

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Poetry SCPLAPS Scraps of this and scraps of that Are what make our paper fat. Here a poem about a rose, Here one onvtihe Winter snows, Here an essay, here a play, To read it through, it takes a day. Besides, its contents are worthwhile, Even though-now don't you smile- Even though we are .quite young, We shall JIOE 4stay'for.long, unsung. ' Our masterpieces -will lamfound, I Andtravelers 'the worldsfaround '- Will iind, in Halls of Fame, perhaps- A . The authors of some old, old Scraps.7' 'f' 1 I -J - as ssiefbea IR. H'a1Ighf0n,'clJ?T WINGS OF MORNING f Slowly and silently Q The silveryfwiiigs of' morning In H Uaafoldsthemselves, To reveal a new day. The glorious sun K, , ' Sends his golden sentinels over the top. The-f1e54'fEfEf'tfIe still as iglidsrsg' ' Even the breefe gstirs not-4 I The morning birds have V ' They are telliiig their 'story tot thiexworldzi ' t'9A'wake, be glad, iiiejoicef li, Day is here. ' H ' ' Francis Beecheil . - SIPRJNG 37 When certain deepest stirrings Enliven the earth's aged crust Of dull brown hardness With a coat of hopeful green, , And Phoebus, slant shafts ii ii Rent asunder' the spongey sky Into myriad tuftsof floatimrgdown That swim in- liquid blue, --,:e . . -A And all l'liUUl16'lFFLClO3lSS herfwintry self' ' I To break forth into the livelier dance of Spfinggl- , - i5.Iw..-'4.Tf's - ri T'is youth of thi'n'gs1-refbom -that draws he? magig fingelzg -1 ., ' .. .3 .. O'er all this ilow'ring'l'2f3:fth., . ' I Judson Benjamin WINTER NIGHT Through the crisping winter air I mount unseen to some high place. Far down below me I see the town I Barely sketched in the last rosy lightil Encircling night presses' down A i Around, about me as some blind 'unseen fear. Bewildered, I turn my eyes' above To where stars, glihteiiihig iini the idark heavens, - 'F Taunt me to snatch -them, to scatter them, That their gaudy gold may illumine my homeward path.. , 'F A ' Edith Iyieyer . fNf ': . f' ' THE'CLOGK' I Like endless song, , ,Q The mbdeiea 'slack X l , Glides ,from sad to gayxi ,. Those figured, hands,-B Are music b'zfi'Ids H 1 .. ii - That tick an eifdiess fsiinligiay' A With rhymic, gait H xpbv r A They go ahead, r , , s, Like meri who scheme arid plan. At Ei:NCl'1'vidHY,S end, They're backaagain, Back where they began. A N ' ,Victoria Maxwell , wal- .I .' ,I '--- -1 . . THE WOODS I' Under aigreen cloud supportedi'by ,brown pillars, V 1. Wild animalsiplay about on a green Ncarpet. They are free and happy, They do notrknow fear, , l X N, If you wanftdiliseie lliie a' mode, E Go to the woods. A I' I I' James Fee 'AT 'DAWN T , 1 A myriad of shining lights along the shore Flicker against lthepyelvet- sky, , Till, in a burst ofqrosy glow The sun arises. p H . I Then fade the flickering lamps, . .V Capricious breezes die ,... And stately palms' stand motionless, Against the golden sky. I1 - - 1 ' Doris Offermann Page Eight

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THE oieeig ROAD I am the open. road,-- Q J . 1 ' TO AMERICAS SHORES Nownigh unto three hundred years g I lead the traveler, . 1 , fixfmss thge stormy .5 .Wally a Pleasure seeker and natureilover, l5fUfflYf5hlP K . A'!, A ' ' Q '- I From the cities. . f ' . L ,ggadeff Wltb mmf' Chllilren Of gyratinig illightsrandiihonking jhorn-sf: i 'fmelgn lands-V M ' if' l 4 To the silentghills andiwoods, . i f 3 ' T0 Settle OH the Wide 395199211 PrH1f1? i Whgere ,,,, Purplg -Eaters ., Poi 'twas freedom' sought' 5 Clow likeejewels by my side, I Notaloiie of W0fSl'lFP'f A,4b . ' Or Chafter5.ng.Chipg,,,,nks, A ' Bur to own their lands forcrillfageg Frisk withzntxtseupon bounding walls, Stil Ithey 001115 -I - E Andrwhere the keen winds, -Ngwgfeweir ,and fewer A , V, Whistle throughethe pines. -Restllctcd' bythe nationls law Follow me 211141 I will cleanse 15:Amerifal5'ShOres' ' ' L 7 I Andjtheneifiyour heartfilor A I A I, e 'Q ' I Awa-u'1M,artha,Tmcgd-dl I amfthe bpen road. , A ' 4 Q I f f 5 ' . f 4EClltl?..MCXf3fQ. r A, - W ' .- srsy5afai1ian'iLdQ' 1166 stare!! I' 5 IT CAN BEf-DONE-f-EFFECTf!:7ELY., ' I I ,How can Pride Hate Adepartf A Cahgg bg' dolwio - - 1 ' .youlliailibut 'do your best, ' y That Settles it! Tne world will care for all thc rest ll u Ifve worked an hour in vain Join Un in And I won't spend one minute more TO T T WT' In studying this inane- A BOOK ' ' I ' 'V O A pencil, some paper, - Nw iw: a moment, A bfiliiamfidea, W Held Ylluf Palme, T I The story is started, I .lust ,what's the trouble there? The Cnd'eiS'quitQ'hQf1Y5: -- fr- T For maybe I can help youhsome If you will bebutfair. Now let me see, Be patient, please, For here are yourlniistakes, You wrote 2x insteaduof And MZ in place' of xl, ' ',:,, , Butlwhy on earth A You lost your head . ' I, Q Is more than I can See, A And after this remember that It' CAN be done2eifectively. Herbert 'R. Houghton, jr, YOU AND I Although we always fight, For you I'd'gladly dieg ' 'And noone 'has a right ' . To come twixt you and I. ' A trip to the printersg' - A 'dash through the presszn T he pages are fastened! , The cover, a dress. In 1 To thousands-ofglboolrstores, All ready to lsell: I A ' A million are purchased, V It's doing' quite well. The book 'is then censored ' For reasons unlgnoyvng Another poor author Has turned 'neath his stone. 1 -I Herbert R. '-Houghton, ,I . -K ,. 'THEARTIST ' ' Autumn with-, .afliglmtbrush ' ' FI Colors the earthf as.it' drowsil-y dreams, ' ' Softens far views, brightensthe plains, Shadows. deseplvdiff roekwweesisi y And blankets each stream H H With a tracing of fog. l'. H Raymond Clarke g fl fl 'i I A H A Edith MCYCY Page' Teri '