Steele High School - Annual Yearbook (Dayton, OH)

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STEELE MAGNET Page Thirty-One BOOKS When you 're feeling rather lonesome And don't know what to do, And everything is going wrong And all the world is blue, Then stroll up to the bookcase And satisfy all need 3 Just get a book, a dandy book, And read, and read, and read! When gayety and fun forsake, When all the weather 's drear, When your team has lost the game And you need a dose of cheer, Then walk up to the bookcase And take a cheerful book And look for all the bright spots, And look, and look, and look! WUI TO YOU The sun-light, the Warm-light Soft-shinin' on your hair, It makes your skin all silky And rosy-pink and fair, And your eyes a-twinklin' merry, And the soft sheen of your dress, And your ribbons, blue and frilly, Gently touching, a caress 5 But it ain't your clothes and ribbons That makes you look so fair- It 's the sun-light, the warm-light, Soft-shinin' in your hair! Star-light and love-light A-shinin' in your eyes, A moon-beam, a. gold-gleam, You parts your lips and sighs, The ruby's crimson glimmer, Flick'rin' lights upon your hand, And pearls' soft, satin shimmer- But you jest caI1't understand, That it ain't jest jewels sparklin' An' your beauty that I prize- It 's the star-light, the love-light, A-shinin' in your eyes! -JANE CORBETT.

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Page Thirty STEELE MAGNET At last the door swung open just enough to admit her tiny form, and she came tottering to the window. Folding her small hands on the sill, she asked in the same dry little voice, f'Any mail for Frau Steinbrunner? The postmaster turned and looked aimlessly through the mail. His eyes became as big as saucers as he pulled from the heap a large envelope and a smaller blue one. Three times he read the addresses, then, after adjusting his spectacles and lowering his eyebrows, he read them again. At last with a reluctant glance he handed the mail over to the little impatient lady. You should have seen her handle my letter. She kissed it twice and then tore it open. Her mouth turned up at the corners and her black eyes sparkled as she read. See ! she cried joyfully, triumphantly, to the postmaster as she raised her eyes for a moment, Karl would not forget his mother. The postmaster stretched his lean neck from the window like a turtle. In vain he tried to read over her shoulder. I felt a delicious thrill of self-satisfaction. The old lady's face shone with joy as she devoured the last page of Karl's letter. With a quaint little chuckle she read and kissed the signature and, as she folded the letter and returned it to the envelope, a heavenly smile was on her face. Then-the blue envelope! It shook in her trembling hands. Her features puckered in agony, she wayed, caught at the desk, and sank to the floor. As I lifted her to a chair, the blue letter dropped from her fingers. One glance was sufficient. It was a formal notice of her son's death in the siege of Liege. THE PATH THROUGH THE WOODS RUSSELL DUKE The path through the woods, if it you will follow, Runs over the hill and down through the hollow, At Hrst it is narrow, and dark, and gloomy, But as it goes on, it widens quite roomy, Till it reaches the hill-crest, where the sun shines bright With tl1e glory of God and Eternal Light, There you will iind your reward in the bowers Formed by the trees, and the woods, and the ilowers. Just so it will be in the lives of some, Gladness and happiness to them will soon come, But to others, who must follow the path Through sadness and death, terror and wrath, Let them always remember that the end is joy To man, to woman, girl, or boy.

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Page Thirty-Two STEELE MAGNET AN APPRECIATION OF ROBERT BURNS MELVIN ALDEN F all the poets we have studied during this, to me, memorable year, Burns stands out as one of the most original, ver atile, and human of them all. One cannot help being influenced by his poems and made to laugh or feel sad with him according to the mood or circumstances which in pired each individual poem. His vivid powers of description, whether of na- ture or of people, enable one to see the same things he saw, and his gift of narrative leaves in us but one regret and that is that he did not write more poems of the kind. For instance, in Tam O' Shanterv we have a narrative poem which is worthy of Scott himself, and at the same time is combined with that lively humor which enlivens so many of Burns' poems. He very often puts the conclusion of a poem in the form of a moral. So in the poem about this same Tam O' Shanterj' he sums up the lesson taught therein with a warning to others to beware of drink: Nouw, wha this tale o' truth shall read, Ilk man, and mother's son, take heed: Whene'er to drink you are inclined, Or cutty sarks run in your mind, Think! ye may buy the joys o'er dear, Remember Tam O' Shanter's mare. His great love and appreciation of nature is expressed in many of his poems, and scarcely any of them but have some comparisons drawn from nature. Thus in Highland Mary, he says: How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorns blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasped her to my bosom. And in another poem he again gives expression to his romantic nature by beautiful comparisons to nature: My love 's like a red, red rose That 's newly sprung in June. My love 's like the melody That 's sweetly played in tune. Burns also gives us many glimpses of himself in the role of a patri- otic and liberty-loving person, and one can readily believe that had he lived in the days of Bruce and Wallace, he too would have been in the forefront of a. battle against the tyrant Scots what hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, Wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed Or to victoria Burns also wrote many songs, some of which are familiar to us all. Who does not know Auld Lang Syne ?--at least by name and tuneg and who is there of us who has not been brought up on Comin' through the rye ?