St Margarets Academy - Dayseye Yearbook (Minneapolis, MN)

Page 26 text:

Our Music Building Thy memory be as a dwelling place For all sweet sounds and harmonics. UR dear old Music Building hath charms to soothe — charms all its very own. The Building is a symphony in itself, harmonious in its complex rhythm of doors and windows, its dormer lights, its creeping vines without: its high walls, its exquisite carvings within. Dimly seen through the silence that lies between now and then, something has woven a magic here that links us to girlhood days. Here we first timidily touched the keys: here we gave our recitals: here in fear and trembling we waited our turn to play for Scionti. And so from the beginner's pound to the artist's finished touch, those strains will ever resound in memory's hall. Truly. The song is ended but the melody lingers on.” Virginia Libby.

Page 25 text:

77)i 7)ayes e Class Building Snow-Bound “A bitter chill it was! The owl for all his feathers was a-cold. WHEN in the future, time and care may have dimmed dear school day scenes, this page will call up many precious memories of happy days at Saint iMargaret’s. Here we spent our freshman and sophomore years: here we heard the speedy clicking of machines, preparing for the commercial side of life: here we received our gymnastic training: here our feet often tripped to merry music: here we marveled at the courage and sacrifice of hardy pioneers. God’s very own people: here we quailed at the shots 'heard round the world ; here we watched aghast the smoke of battles, and wept for the fallen hero. And here these humble walls mutely listened, as we tried to orate like Cicero, or sing like Virgil. But our eyes are misty now. We quietly close our Memory Book and try to hum a happy song, until we are more alone. Mary Meyer. 21

Page 27 text:

Campus Memories The dearest spot you'll ever find. Go you where you may. There is no place that’s more beloved Than the campus of S. M. A. Each of the stately buildings Is packed with stories dear: The stories of tender friendships. That were made in school days here. And though time may bleach its color rich And crumple these dear walls. It can never blast the friendships That were formed in these dear halls. Memory Lane When I am old and tired and weary. And whether in joy or in pain. I know I shall always find comfort. When I wander down Memory Lane. I shall shut my eyes in contentment. Remembering a dear refrain. And softly I’ll sing of my schooldays. When I wander down Memory Lane. My girlhood dreams shall haunt me, My longings both simple and sane, I shall see the dear old school house When I wander down Memory Lane. My teachers, my pals, and the others. As we went through sunshine and rain. I shall see them again in dreamland. When I wander down Memory Lane. Then sweetest of all, the Chapel. Where the Master of all will deign To smile as He did in my schooldays. When I wander down Memory Lane. Margaret Neiuman. 23