Toronto Teachers College - Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

Page 50 text:

Docendo Discimus Come - let us learn to teach, The walls of ignoranceg the bars of bias breach. Come - let us take young hands And guide young minds thru' distant lands And nearg ioin in wonder of Spring's bursting green Surprised anew by secret stars unseen. Rejoice with them o'er a new found word, Swing from the classroom with the studied birdg Swim with newly widened eyes the teeming brook, Untold vast vistas from one small book. Give eyes and ears an ever-growing reach, And delight in the daring of new-discovered speech When Music soothes - speak soft and sing Softly - so skipping notes their own sweet magic bring Stride the still warm trails our settlers blazed Fleeing Evil whose greed whole cities razed. Walk the ancient paths where Holiness trod, And lift enlightened souls to touch the face of God Join us then to set young hearts to yearning For this Way of Wonder - This gay Adventure - Learning

Page 49 text:

How Many Words . . . How many words have passed through your lips? laughing words, crying words, angry words, tender words words of confusion, of reason, but words . . . How many aromas have flirted with your nose enticing, fragrant, beguiling? How many odours have made you wish you had no nose at all? but still you have . . . And sounds, sounds floating through your ears drifting one along the sea, flying peacefully as a bird. and then the noise that commands you to the ground with a thundering crash 'till your very ears are about to explode. the sound of love in a voice the sound of a baby's first cry the sound of a rocket's ascent . . . the sound of feet marching to war the sound of an old man's last moan the sound of silence . . . And what do your eyes behold? blue of sky, red of rose, brown of eye smile of pleasure, tear of sorrow, grimmace of prejudice, a book's printing, a picture's colour, a film's story . . . a flag, a cross, a gun a white cane . . . and what have you touched? where have you walked? and what will you say, smell, see, hear, touch tomorrow and where, yes where, will you go? . . ,

Page 51 text:

Night Sounds Sounds of the night, The shrill hoot of a distant whistle sharp Against the lesser sound of the rumbling train ln the background of resounding silence. The cricket close at hand Ticking his mournful call to the wind That slowly moving lends breath to the blades Of waving grass, so they whisper and Wave to one another. The road's dark dusty surface lies shattered Broken by the bright beams of the street- light That beside the Maple stands, silhouetting the branches, Giving the road its leafy shapes in light and dark. The chortling brook gurgling in clear tones As rounded stones disturb its path Makes complete the symphony of night x F' , I Q1 ll Flower A flower is like a thought sounds. Of beauty, bound and caught A ln fragrance for an hour B' RGWE A thought is like a flower The slightest flower seems More read than thoughts and dreams Which are but trifles less Than airy nothingness. And yet our thoughts contain I What power for ioy or pain , f Space has not the extent ' to hold their increment . Thoughts fly yet have no wings And outlast solid things ' A thought of love maybe Man's Immortality ' My love is yet a whole I Unfoldment of a soul. l fr THE WEST INDIAN if l ,, , . . If X I l I T Spring Lyric xx I! 'X ' Vernal melodies sweetly strumming, I Cn the pussy-willow's lyre, Soft breezes round the windows humming, ' And the spring sun's growing fire. f K X Magic freshness, sudden greening, N , ! y Grass like colours never seen, l ' Marks old winter's hidden landscape, y With blades that n'er before were see B. ROWE f x ix. i X N 39