Stadium High School - Tahoma Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

Page 28 text:

THE TAHOMA FINIS The fading notes die, softly sweet, The organ sighs its last retreat, The portals open, close again And shut from us the sweet refrain. No more in joyous youthful fles We'll fill those corridors and aisles. Our hymnals done, our service o'er, We've passed on through the outer door. Our worlf is with the wide new earth, Where we will test our strength and worth. Farewell, O portals tried and true, Our school farewell, O, Cold and Blue! Your care for us was not in vain- Through all the years that yet will wane Our hearts will hold the sweet refrain. As fruitful years go crowding past Through Sumtmefs charm and Winters' blast, O, let us linger on our way lf but a moment let us stay: And listen-.hear it faint and far- A note, a fragment of a bar It strikes a chord within' our souls, A swift response in answer rolls: Our thoughts go bounding back again To scenes where rang that lasting strain: And when our school's loved name we hear Our hearts will shout a welcome cheer. OCIE H. VAN TINE.. 'I 3

Page 27 text:

THE TAHOMA A NIGHT IN JUNE It was moonlight on the river, One lovely night in june, And the water seemed to quiver As the zephyr played a tune. Down the river slowly floating, Came a little birch canoe, It was just the size for boating, For there was just room for two. In the boat sat man and maiden, And he did his love profess, When the bark, quite over-laden, Ended short his fond address. Hard he struggled in the water, With the maiden in his arms, Quickly to the shore he brought her, Saving all her lovely charms. There, amid the whisp'ring rushes, On that lovely night in june, While the river sang its hushcs, To the soft lays of the moon. , Strong he urged his fond affections, In a somewhat broken voice, And she whispered, Predeliction, You are still my birch bark choice! M. H. M., 'l3

Page 29 text:

THE TAHOMA IWONDER And now we're ready to begin the race. Our hopes run high-we think 'tis much we know. 'Tis we who in the future set the pace, Who'll rule the world-at school they tell us so Soon comes some sage of pessimistic mind Who looks in scorn from cold and loveless eyes Speaks thus from lips which never bless mankind, lt's all a falsehood-ye build on lies. Then there be those with gentler natures blest Who still our glowing visions cannot share. They say, Your school days are the happiest For ne'er again will joy come without care. I wonder--after we taste life's cup Its sweets and bitters know-their strength compared, Have weighed life's joys and sorrows down and up, Will we from bitterness and hate be spared? Will we upon the ardent plans of youth Look with scorn of disillusioned eyes, And with cold words wel-blanket without ruth, The hopes which our young hearts now fondly prize? And we will quote with staid and solemn air, Thus they have passed,-Life's happiest days are o'er. And murmur with an echo of despair, We knew it not-we knew not that they went. RUTH Ei SWANSON. '13