Stratford Central Secondary School - Collegian Yearbook (Stratford, Ontario Canada)

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COLLEGIAN, l93O EVENING Once more comes on the evening, soft and gray, The sun is slowly sinking in the west Now is man's respite from the busy day The peaceful earth can settle down to rest. In busy tree-tops many birds are singing Through shady twilight sounds the chapel bell, So peacefully its evening message bringing A welcome unto twilight and to care a knell. Out come the stars, the glowing heavens darken, The busy day has parted, on comes the night Now man once more to his inward thoughts may hearken, As slowly comes from out the east. the moon's eternal light. The silver moon is rising, the stars begin to peep The birds have ceased their singing, silence comes apace, Birds and beasts and flowers soon will be asleep And man once more can rest him from Iife's fevered race. THE SONG OF THE BOOT A galIant's foot I once encased, A silver stirrup I embraced, I held a pistol, gold enchased When I was in my Prime. Chorus: Then polish, rag and a brush or two And here I am as good as new. A stately court I once did grace, For I was in the highest place, All others bowed them to their face For I was in my Prime. Chorus: Then polish, rag and a brush or two And here I am as good as new. The dust of Marston Moor I bore When routed troopers cursed and swore, And I lay swathed in blood and gore For I had lost my Prime. Chorus: No polish, rag or a brush or two Can ever make me good as new. -J. W.- HTHE PRESENT AGE The present age, they say, is bad And picture times when life was glad. They say that youth to-day is spoiled And God's great work on earth is foiled And men to-day, they think are ITIHCI. But yet, defending, we can say, Remember, 'tis another day, And God's great purpose still may rule The present age. To-day's conditions are much changed, But therefore are the heavens es- tranged? Ah no! we still may give our best, And show as very truly blessed, By our hard work and by our faith, The present age! --J.A. -62-

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COLLEGIAN, 1930 FIRST PRIZE RONDEA U That Life Is Good That life is good, we all may know, If in this habit we can grow, Of placing first, where they should be, The things that count -morality, And faith and hope and sweet content. To plant these things within your heart, Will give that better life a start, And make you know within yourself, That life is good. All outward circumstance of sin Comes from the wrong desire within, And m.an's conception, so untrue, 1Has led him so much wrong to do, And yet he knows, though he be blind That life is good. -J.A.- WHEN KNOWLEDGE COMES When Knowledge comes, do men grow better? What though they loose the hated fetter That binds them down to simple life, There follows in its wake such strife, That man's last state is often worse. For it is knowledge, when we know The origin of cloud, rain, snow, Or does our life much happier grow When Knowledge comes? 'For have men got the wisdom yet In Nature and in God to set Their thoughts and love and hope Instead of striving here to grope In their conceit, for things not first When Knowledge comes? JA TO GAIN THE PRIZE To gain the prize this poem I write A rondeau called in terms polite, And tho' 'tis but a poor attempt, Perchance the prize of which l dreamt Will come within my greedy sight. To those who see its inner light Will no doubt see it shining bright, For every wile and trick I tempt, To gain the prize! Such common stuff! Indeed a blight! So this I offer quite contrite. My crudest humour is exempt My subtle wit much too unkempt. On form alone remains the fight To gain the prize! -J.W. SCHOOL SONG On Stratford High School! On Stratford High School! Tear right through that line Down the field and past the goal And make a score this time. RAI-I! RAI-I! RAI-I! On Stratford High School! On Stratford High School! Fight on for your fame. Fight, fellows, fight, and we will Win this game! -FRASER HAY. -61-

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COLLEGIAN, I 930 MY D'R!ElAM Olne night I dreamed And then I seemed In an ecstasy of joy I saw again, And oh so plain! The time I was a boy: The field of hay, The morn of May Steal o'er my father's home, My mother dear And, sadder here, My brother dead in Rxome. I saw again 'The F1 enin rain '12 g g The harvest fields all yellow The market old Where oft I sold The fruit so ripe and mellow. Once more I saw And held in awe T'he red school in the meadows I The little pool Where after school bathed with all my fellows. The creek Wherein 'Twas such a sin To fish on Summer Sundays The little pew In the church I knew And the grass Icut on Mondays. The winter snow The happy glow Of a fireside bright and warm With a family dear There all was cheer And our world contained no harm. But sad I grew When again I knew That all was but a dream Yet my thoughts all hold With a joy untold To my old home's hallowed gleam. But now 'tis gone, On the fields where shone The bright sun every day, 'Has a city come With its noisy hum. And my home has passed away. John Anderson Nothing in life is perfect, Half man, part god are we. We are not all so fitted To comphehend the sea. We are the keyless padlock, The spirit within the cage. The powers of the Samson Are not those of the sage. We are the soulful verslet Writ in an unknown tongue. We are the angels' music Over creation flung. We are but half the poet Who raises the hopes of men To build a tower of Beauty, The soul, but not the pen. Catch at opportunity While, my child, you may, Not too often in your life Does it come your way. If perchance you pass it by, Never mind, you say, It will surely ere I die Come again some day. But, may child, I say to you Life is much too brief. Catch it ere it passes you Lest it bring you grieffi Some day you may realize When it is too late What importance re-ally lies In that little phrase. -WJR- 163- E. G.