St Margarets Academy - Dayseye Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

Page 22 text:

The West Main Porch “And so it chanced, for many a door was wide From hurry to and fro. 'T'O THE casual passer-by. just an old stone porch: but to the girls of Saint Margaret's, an archway of golden girlhood dreams. It was from this porch they first stepped across the threshold of their Alma Mater. Here their young hearts trembled with excitement as they opened that mystic door that admitted them to high school life. Here again those same hearts leaped with joy and wonder after that first blessed day at the Academy. And here for four happy school years, they hurried to and fro for classes, music, lunch, and home, as they laughed and chattered in school-girl ways. If care with freezing years should come. How soothing this scene will be. Theresa Casey. J 8

Page 21 text:

Front Main Such scenes have power to quiet The restless pulse of care. A MINUTE’S walk from the noise and crowd to this quiet, calm retreat. A demure and stately mansion, standing so sublime: just grand enough to be simple, and simple enough to be grand. What tender, sacred memories this view recalls! Memories that grow fonder as they fade into the dim past-memories that pass in grand parade adown the aisles of thought. Here we first saw the gleam, lit our lamps of learning, and began our valiant quest. Then throbbed the high noblesse oblige that hence must urge us on. These are the things that touch the heart Like the swell of an old refrain: For these are the things men died for. And they beckon us home again. Mary Holmes. 17

Page 23 text:

 The walls are full of music drawn From twitterings in the eaves at dawn. V HEN the great snowstorm came to our Campus. it found itself un-molested at South Main, where it plied its artful craft in building shapes fantastic. It left a scene of wondrous, alabaster beauty. Our cameras caught it. In summer, the south view holds two very interesting features—Woodbine covers the entire wall, even trespassing on the rich red roof, and climbing the massive chimneys. This vine is the sparrows' Paradise. Here they sport, and spat and sputter, three seasons of the year, rousing the Nuns ere the matin bell for prayer, and chasing the welcome robins from their holdings. But the greater attraction is the little flickering flame, seen through all the windows, bowing and trembling before the King of Kings, consuming itself in vigil through the crowded day. and the lonely stillness of the night. Jeanne Halloran. South Main Snow-bound 19