Thomas Jefferson High School - Aurora Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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When I review The swiTTIy passing year, The regisTer oT all I soughT and IosT, The calendar oT pleasures and Their cosT, And memory's dreary discounT oT each Tear: When I see hollow Time allay each Tear, Turn TrosT To heaT, and heaT again To TrosT, Salvage one boaT and leave anoTher Tossed On sTormy sea above iTs cerTain bierp Though I see pilgrims looking Through The nighT For some rooTed haven Trom indiTTerenT sTars, For some gray misT in Their deTauIT oT IighT3 YeT sTiII I Icnow There waiTs beyond The bars OT darlc, a Tree oT IighT ThaT Tlowers, slow And siIenT in The sun's eTernaI glow. II Time sTays buT we go on. Then one IasT view OT Triend and school IoeTore we separaTe. I To my hopes, you To whaTever TaTe May, unheard, whisper is your Iiving's due. Years malce sad Tools oT men. We prod- Then rue The cynic IanceT ThaT would heal The sTaTe By TruThs buT haIT-believed. LiTe will noT waiT3 The sea-deparTed wind can blow as True WiThouT The brine beTween iTs TeeTh, nor bend. The wave could lose The sunseT on iTs cresT7 The snowsTorm in The cape could have iTs zesT, WiThouT The borealis To aTTend. All This we Icnow, yeT wonder if remain STIII, Things To men as inTiniTe as pain. Encircled in The shine oT a new sTar, SurmounTing every cloud wiTh ancienT skill, We shall go on, uniTed in The will To build anew, To brealc each rusTed bar ThaT blocks The way oT iusTice, Tends To mar The course oT ThoughT advancing upward sTill. Pull empTy ComTorT Trom his highesT hill, Who, sTilTed To a creed, may hear Trom Tar The rush oT winds oT scorn, youTh in The van, ThaT come To cuT him down, and bring The righT. Throw down The Thieves oT bounTy Trom Their heighTl There yeT shall come The momenT when a man Shall scan, wiTh briIIianT eye, The heaven's rim, And waTch in daunTed space a sTar grow dim. DAVID WRUBEL