Sarah Dix Hamlin School - Epilogue Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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Thr Elmakming The clear brook flowed on swiftly He stood so very carefully And the south wind sang a song, And sniffed the fragrant air, While the sun cast its golden shafts He peered into a hawthorne bush Upon the small tan fawn. But found no creature there. The fawn now eyed with interest Then opened wide his brown eyes The bright pattern, on his hide, And, with paint brush tail unfurled, Of sun and shadow, leaf-like ghosts He pranced from glade to beaten path That swayed from side to side. Into the great, wide world. JOAN WOHLENBERG '46 Ginquain Imagzs Excited horses, Smoke, A smooth gallop over fieldsg A thin grey coil Pink coats of huntsmen flashing by - From the small red end The full cry of panting hounds . . . Cf the long white cigarette A fox exhausted. Smouldering in ashes. Deep night Chimes, Of velvet blue, Church bells, One tiny star - a chip of the moong Deep-throated and clear, A soft breeze, a Heeting thought Echoing over crisp winter air Of someone far away. And soft snow falls. GAIL ST. AUBYN '45 lllukkll Slowly rises the shining moon, Which caresses the mourning pine. The night-blooming cereus soon Unfolds its Soft White Petals, Then with the first cock's crow The moon, now pale, sinks low, Opens its throat of deepest yellow And the flower fades forever. To the evening air so soft and mellow ELLAIN RUSSELL '45 ' Thr Shnmzr A sudden shower - And then the sun, The cool drops fall, Mid gray clouds swirled, An answer to Shines forth to meet The parched earth's call. A freshened world. 5 BETSY SMITH '45

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The cable-cars, the very symbol of San Francisco, Hurtling madly down Nob Hill, Throttles wide open, passengers hanging on for dear life, Bells beating out a sharp, gay rhythm, A warning to anything in their way. The flower-vendor on Stockton Street, Proudly pacing up and down before his stand With its bright awning and fresh spring ilowers . . . A tranquil spot in the bustling street. The fruit-wagon on Sutter Street, A composition in color with its high-piled Apples, oranges, and grapefruit, The peddler calling his wares nearby . . . The sad-eyed old horse never moving a muscle Except to switch off an occasional fly. Chinatown, with its delightful air of another world, The crowds of servicemen being the only reminder of a modern age. The Civic Center, where swarms of pigeons are feeding on the lawns The quiet majesty of great buildings, Old people resting on the stone steps of the Library, Thoughtfully absorbing the thin sunshine. Now a vigorous walk up the steep hills, The biting cold wind a challenge to every step. A sweeping view of the bay your reward at the top: Icy gray water ribbed with white caps, An occasional sail boat, a gleaming speck on its surface. Wiiad, wind . . . wind! Whipping your face as you t11I'I1, shivering and exhilarated. BETSY SMITH '4 5 youth He talked to me of things he'd never talked about before. His deepest thoughts, his dreams, his hidden fears were all revealed, For he was Youth, it was not his, this savage world of war That Peace, from Strife and Horror born, had never really healed. EVELYN DULL '4 5

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Light Oh, why are we two left alone tonight In utter darkness, knowing only pain, Complete fatigue of body, mind, and heart, And desolation, grief, and bleak despair. Is this reality? to lose a limb To that inhuman, greedy monster - War - Who sucks the blood of Life and wrings all hearts? Why do you look at me in questioning? I did not shun a soldier's duty then, Nor do I scorn the consequences now. But tell me why we two are thus compelled For honor's sake to pay full penalty .... You say this is not needless suffering But God's own test of human fortitude. Perhaps the purpose of this agony Is but to arouse the spirit, shield the soul From worldliness and evils roundabout. For when hope is lost and human strength is gone, In desperation, trust is laid in God, Whose full importance then is realized. Your face is shining. Is it moonrise now? You seem to smile. Why do you turn away? That light approaching! Have our comrades come? Or is that brightness God's own face at last? BARBARA LYNCH '4 5 E-ll Strat I walked alone on a street last night And watched the shadows from the corner light, I saw the stones so worn from years Of hearing laughter and feeling tears, Of seeing life and death and pain, Of knowing Spring and snow and rain, A street that breathes amidst the grime - An aged street as old as time. JULIANA FERGUSON ,45