Seven Hills High School - Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

Page 69 text:

IVY 1' L, I? 55 7' KD DI li SALUTE TO DEBUSSY Debussy, with your heavenfgiven gift, How my heart swells when I hear your music! You, who were a human musical barometer, Who, not with the fear and fellowship Of a sailor wrestling with a friendly antagonist, But like a divining physician who knew All the multiple fluid emotions and possibilities, Knew and loved the ocean With all its variations, its lights and shadows, Its swells and recessions, its savagery and calmness, Its frothy foam and spray, its oily glossiness, Its stridency and its seductiveness, its limitlessness and its intimacy. Dear Muse, how you knew the sky! The blue clear spaciousness, the flufhness of scudding clouds, The heavy ominousness of stormy weather. And how well you knew the wind, Its soft sweetness in spring and autumn, Its vicious, biting strength and turbulence, Its lull and motion. Revered man of music, how thankful I am For your feeling soul that thought not Of stress and strain in mathematical terms and scientific words, But gave to the world the fairylike impressions upon your senses, Which uplift and overpower me, And just as quickly sooth and lull me into an inexplicable, dreamlike state. I thank the powers that be for you, Debussy, and raise my hand in salute. jane Mclntyre lOth Grade REFLECTIQNS OF A SENIQR QFor eleven years I have looked with longing at each year's Seniors who seemed to reign as mighty rulers over the school. They seem so old and sophisticated in comparison to the young, unassured girls in the other classes. Since all my school experience has been C. P. S. experience, the girls in the upper classes were familiar to me as I progressed along the rough road of the Grammar In Action, numerous geography books, and Adventures in Aritlif metic. It is diflicult, at this moment, for me to believe that the mere transition of a girl from the junior to the Senior year could hold such awesome significance for a shy fourth grader. It is also difficult, at this moment, to believe that I was ever shy. Now that I am beginning the second half of the Senior year I find that there is a little more than glory attached to being a Senior. There is responsibility! The Milestone is a Senior publication which requires many hours of work and effort. Each Senior class prays that it will have enough money to print the literary and art contributions of the more talented girls, the pages of Senior interest material, and, perhaps most important of all, page 65

Page 68 text:

IDI I' L, I? S3 7' C3 FV E? OH! FOR THE SEA! Oh, for the sound of the surf and the smell of the sea, Cn the shores of Cape Cod in the country that's free! How I long for the screams of the gulls that soar by, As they dip for a fish or fly high in the skyg For the pound of the surf and the swish of the sea Seems somehow to thrill them-and it does thrill meg For the little white cottage set back of the treesg CHOW those tall pines would sing with the cool ocean breeze! For the porch in the back where my mother cut flowersg The place where I read to brighten dull hours. These things that I long for, the War took away, But I'1l be returning-Illl come back some day To the roar of the surf and the wash of the sea Cn the shores of Cape Cod in the land that is free. Nancy Foshay 9th Grade Cjx f' CQRSAGES She can have orchids Every day From anyone with The price to pay. She pins them to A lustrous fur- But still I vvouldn't Change with her. I Wear no blooms From a florists shelf. But a rose he picked For me himself l I wear his love, For all to see. While she, in orchids, Envies me. Evie Perry IOth Grade page 64

Page 70 text:

MILESTONE photographs of the classes and the best snapshots. Now is the proper moment to raise the cry, 0urs will be the best Milestone everlll CCfOne of the more comforting aspects of being a Senior is the knowledge that at last I have decided what I shall do after I am graduated in June. I have chosen my college and the field I wish to invade. The junior year is very trying for a student who is undecided about college. For a while I was beginning to feel as though I had no ambition, talent, or energy for my life after graduation. From my twelve years at C. P. S. I feel that I have gained even more than any academic foundation for life. I know that each year, whether a year of war or peace, brings each of us an added responsibility, both to ourselves and to others, and that this responsibility must be born. Each of us has his daily work to perform, and this work will be more skillfully and perfectly done if we decide to pride ourselves in and enjoy each task. I believe that, as long as I retain this feeling of responsibility about my work, I shall be able to go through college and my life afterwards secure in the knowledge that I have gained as much as possible from living and working. Dorothy Meyer 12th Grade IT TAKES ALL KINDS Cflt is a rainy Sunday afternoon and the auditorium is crowded and stifling. You are sitting in an uncomfortable position and directly behind a pillar. Your feet are tired and pinched in your new pumps with the three inch heels. The orchestra is playing an unfamiliar symphony and you are slightly restless, having just eaten a huge chicken dinner. You slyly turn in the direction of the side door hoping rather in vain to see a man in a red and white checked suit come galloping down the stairs on a black stallion, or something equally interesting. When seconds pass and only a latecomer clatters down those same wooden stairs, you sigh and turn your interest to the study of the people around you. GfOn your left is an elderly lady with white wavy hair upon whose head is perched the latest creation in elderly women's hats. Her grayfgloved hands adjust a golden pinzefnez on the tip of her nose, and the faded eyes scan the program with interest. Presently her head turns and she looks at her diamond watch, and an expression of worry crosses her wrinkled but still handsome face. Poor thing, you think, she is probably wondering if Amanda took little Rudy, the Pekinese, out for his daily walk, and if she didn't, how restless and bothersome dear Rudy will be later on tonight. Amanda always forgets things like that. Or maybe her grandchildren are staying at her house and no doubt are up from their nap by now and are in the process of knocking over her favorite priceless Chinese vase. Your imagination is running away with itself, you think, and you turn away with a smile. CIYour interest now centers on the young man on your right, He is thin and rather pale, and his dark suit shows signs of long wear. He is leaning forward, his chin on his hand. His brown hair falls in locks on the high forehead and his dreamy eyes reveal plainly his engrossment in the music. He is undoubtedly a music student, with those long sensitive hands, who has worked hard to earn enough money to come to the concert. You can visualize his living quarters in one of the poorest sections of the city, unkempt and dark, .- gt page 66 I' '