University of Wisconsin Stout - Tower Yearbook (Menomonie, WI)

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r o w i: r 10 ;i o Li:tty K. WAUB Some Bconom{c$ Eil unit inn R. L. Welch Vocational Industrial Education Gback M. Dow Dirt r tar of Hall and Iliill.vinrf Hazel Vax Nebs Clare Marie Waxoejt College Nurse Clara Ymm ,S7i ' li ' ii) nifihir rS arff®l font n

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7 o rr e h i 9 .9 Mamie Russell Mut2 Rtlated Ari (ii:RTHim; M. O ' BWH n fo •li.tlrar Grace M. Pbxce Vocational Home Ern- rnnuir. ' Eil iintthni Helen Sabchet English Hki.kn Stavkhiock. Stenographer K. Faith Stray hi Ho in t .i ' l m in iff ratio n «■ Paul C. Nelsox Ell- till lit. ill Wll ' llllCirrk, CtWpt III r II. H ' nmi tin i.--li in ri Sylvester Pattltjs Coaching Hubert Bhi CE Antrim .hnininnt Librarian IIki.es C. Smith lor of Purser i) School Myrtle Strand .hnittanl Librarian F, E, ' JYstison Math maMct , Science, Horn i Httcka 4ct Page 22

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T O W ; K 1 9 3 The Marshes I ' ve traveled through the mountain ' s haze And o ' er the singing sea. I ' ve traveled o ' er many a mile of endless plain. But I ' «l leave all these places With the very best of graces, If I could have my marshes hack again. For there ' s something in the marshes, And it seems to call and thrall me, No matter where my footsteps chance to roam. There ' s the salty breeze that ' s stinging And the long marsh grass that ' s whining. And all that means hut one thing And that ' s Home. With the moonlight nn the river. Making marshes quake and quiver. And the tide swell softly lapping on ymir hoat. Vim forget your haste and hurry. Vim forget your care and worry. And all yiiii want to do is just to float. Just to float en through the passes, ' Tween the long and bladelike grasses, And at night-time hear the sea-gull scream above. Just to Bee all nature waking. At the time the young day ' s breaking. Wakes a feeling in your heart that ' s kin to love. Tin re the tired, sick, and weary find a comfort for their souls; Tiny live a life they ' ve never known before Just to have the marshes ' feeling Softly, quietly, o ' er me stealing, Would be wealth enough for me, Though I be poor. i ' ' ' t I may travel to the cities of the countries near and far, And perhaps along life ' s highway I may stray. But when I ' m weak and weary Anil my whole outlook is dreary. I ' ll come hack to my marshes, There to stay. — Louise Whitehurst ' 30