Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

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Monahan MY JEWELS For diamonds Ah, what care I? I ' ve raindrops, snowflakes Glistening from the sky. Or rubies bright? Why, I have Mars! A thousand rubies Can ' t outshine the stars. Yes, amethysts Are rare — and yet, I ' d not exchange one For a violet. Aquamarines, Turquoises — dear, But I ' d choose oceans, Sunny blue skies — clear. Beads of white foam More dazzling are Than beads in costly Strings of pearls — by far. Red-flecked and green Bloodstones I ' d yield For wild strawberries Dotting a fair field. Give me my gold In sun and flowers; My silver, mountain Streams and April showers. Carol Lee, ' 31. HORSES IN THE SKY Solitary, scudding, grey clouds. Borne along by a cold, north wind, Swirl and tumble, Meet and part, Charge in the heightening din — Horses in the sky. Louder, louder, bestial cries. Heard in the storm ' s shrill whine, Fear and pain. Grief and rage, In a battle of all time — Horses in the sky. Awesome, grim the Storm King Rides and rules up there. Fearful and terrible. Dark and ghostly, His legions ride the air — Horses in the sky. Drifting, immersing, snow-sheets, Shroud-like cover the earth. Cold and white, Stark and bare, As if to hide its worth — Horses in the sky. Small, irregular, patches grow. In the draperies of the northern heaven, Larger and larger. Solitary and scudding, Gray clouds joining their southern brethren- Horses in the sky. Alfred Dickhart, ' 31, I SAT IN REVERIE I sat in reverie beside a mossbound brook, Amidst the flowers, birds, and trees, and verdant sod; The solitude and peace of this secluded nook Relieved my soul of worldly stain, and I found God. Stephen Rogers, P. G.

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POEMS OF VACHEL LINDSAY A Review General William Booth Enters Into Heaven and Other Poems is a collection of Vachel Lindsay ' s works. I have chosen ten from this group, not because they are considered his best, but because they appeal to me and because they are a fair criterion of Lindsay ' s work. The City That Will Not Repent is a picture of San Francisco. The great city is represented as a wild, care- free woman who brazenly hurls a challenge to the world, forgetting the days when she was sackcloth and ashes, blaspheming God, though she knows full well He might smite her, but caring little if He should. Some very vivid and effective lines are found in this poem: Painting her face and laughing, Blowing her bubble towers Swearing they will not break, The next to the last verse forms the key note of the poem. God loves this rebel city. Loves foeman brisk and game, Tho ' , just to please his angels He may send down his flame. God loves the golden leopard Tho ' he may spoil her hair; God smites, yet loves the lion — God makes the panther fair. The Dandelion: In the hands of a poet, the worst thing on earth can inspire a feeling of love, pity, admira- tion or envy. In The Dandelion, the curse of every gardener and lawn lover is raised to a high level. It is spoken of, as the King of village flowers Whose every day is coronation time. The lines I most enjoyed are: Four yellow heads are cut away, It seems your reign is o ' er. By moon you raise a sea of stars More golden than before. The Wedding of the Lotus and the Rose: In this verse the Lotus is symbolic of the Pagan peoples; and the Rose, of Christendom. The writer is apparently urging a concil- iation and unity between the non-believers and the Chris- tians. The most striking lines are: The Lotus is Nirvana The Rose is Mary ' s heart The Rose is deathless, restless The splendor of our pain The flush and fire of labor That buUds not all in vain. At Mass is an appeal to the Deity to make one great hour, holy, in spite of the fact, that, at all other times, man ' s thoughts are not of God. It is a prayer that God may fill the heart with love, that once in a thousand days has conquered temptation. The Empty Boats: The means which God gives us to save our souls are represented by boats, which by the win- dows wait. It is a lament that we should pass up the opportunity to become secure in one of these crafts, in order that we might climb the glorious mysteries of Heaven ' s silent tide. The Song of the Garden Toad: The author queries whether the worms are able to relate theii- agonies to human beings. He wonders if the gardener can hear them. The rose asks the gardener if he heard the worms com- plaining. His only reply was a kiss. What did it mean? Mr. Lindsay, I fear, must answer his own question. The Illinois Village: This village is described as a veritable paradise, An artist ' s town of Bethlehem, whose church one can not pass without a touch of Spirit-power. He bewails the fact that Commerce, which sends its trains hurtling through the village, should create in the minds of the village girls a thought of the city which is, in reality, but a field of weeds. Upon Returning to the County Road: Lindsay recalls the days when hospitality was at its height. He brings back to our minds the time when rich and poor alike were always eager to welcome a wandering stranger, poet, or minstrel with their minds free from mistrust. The last two lines of the poem, Therefore the singer turns beggar once again, are vague. On The Road to Nowhere is an inquiry into the causes of the wanderlust. The author depicts the coiu-ses in life of those Nomads who leave home and lead a vagabond existence. The last stanza is rather a parting salute to the Nowhere which claims the sages and fools who go on to their chaotic ocean and their tremendous dawn, unherd- ing. Stephen Rogers, P. G. THE C. M. T. C. CAMPS The purpose of the Citizens ' Military Training Camp is to bring together the highest type of young men and boys from all sections of the country on an equal basis and under the best conditions of outdoor life. At the camp, the young men are taught the duties of American Citizenship. En- rollment in the camp does not signify that one must have a military career in the future; rather it is to teach the boys the fundamentals of military training in case of need. Strict military training is carried on only during the morning. The afternoon is given over to a great variety of outdoor sports and games. Since athletics are compulsory, each student is compelled to take part in some sport. Pro- visions are made at all camps for swimming, baseball, track, volley ball, tennis, wrestling, and boxing. These sports are all under the supervision of expert instructors. Evening is given over to indoor recreations among which are moving pictures, boxing bouts, lectures, or dances. Sometimes the students themselves conduct forms of entertainment in the way of amateur theatricals. An interesting feature of the training is the overnight hike. The students hike a few miles and then pitch camp with their tents. Each individual has to prepare and cook his own food. The return march is made the next morn- ing. In the cavalry, where I was enrolled last year, a hike of eighteen miles was made one morning, and the return on the next day. The cost of transportation, medical care, and equipment is borne by the government, so that the money appropriated by Congress for the camps makes it possible for any boy to attend — no matter what his financial condition. The camps are located all over the country on army reservations so that parents of the boys can easily make personal visits and see the camp life. Prank Brown, ' 31.

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THE WOOD PEWEE THE SKYSCRAPER They both had gathered strings and straw And twigs to build their nests; And both had brought the soft green moss To mix in with the rest. Upon your proud and lofty head the sun doth shine. You are the Circe of our towers, stone and steel; About your firm implanted feet like grov ' ling swine, The lesser buildings strain to upward glance — and reel. Not hers, the sweeter of the songs; Not hers, the brighter hues; But, clad in somber brown and gray, She brings the sweeter news. The fleecy clouds adorn your form with robes of white. Your shining sides are friendly with the falling rain; Your thousand ever-watchful eyes all through the night Cut clouds of sombre, creeping, crawling forms in twain. He sings of spring and balmy days, And sunny skies of blue, Of budding leaves and blossoms gay, And sparkling morning dew. Your stateliness of carriage all of us acclaim. You rear your paramount of height into the blue; Across a broad expanse of sea has passed your fame. And far below we stand and gaze in awe of you. She sings of three, pink-green eggs, A song of joyful praise. She watches them with loving eyes, And guards them through the days. Olive Roberson, ' 31. ON SEEING A PICTURE OF STONEHENGE You stand forlorn, decayed, and dead, With azure skies above your head. Old stones so massive, fine and tall, You must have had a heart for all. There ' s something sad about your lot. And yet it seems you ' re always sought By people seeking things of fame. That ' s why we find you in a frame. The peasants came from far and near. You tried to soothe and stop their fear; You planted on their native sod A building called their home of God. And now you bend so grey and bare. We know that once a heart was there. Don ' t sigh because your work is done. Yours is a valiant battle won. Dorothy Stimpson, ' 31. WANTED: A BLUE MOON Several curious things they say. Happen when the moon i5 blue; Homework then ' s preferred to play. Often — when the moon is blue. Children like to go to bed Early — when the moon is blue; Scorning sweets they ' ll ask for bread, Only — when the moon is blue. So, if we ' re not quickly sent On the road to fortune soon. Notice this advertisement — Wanted Here — a nice blue moon. Alice Young, ' 31. Upon your gold-encrusted dome doth press the sky. Yet every part by hand and mind of man was made; And as the elements of God you thus defy. Now break the spell, and truly speak. Art not afraid? Stephen Rogers, P. G. TIDEWATERS Gleaming runs the water. Rippling runs the tide. Swiftly goes the sail-boat Over the sea so wide. Over the shining waters. Over the sparkling sea. Over the dark-blue ocean Will you come with me? We will sail forever. Ever so far away. Far into the sunset. For ever and a day. And we will be so happy. So happy will we be — Say, Oh say, you ' re coming. You ' re coming there with me! Ida Jones, ' 33. ASLEEP What do they think of, asleep ' neath the sod? This world, their friends that they leave or their God? Is there untold, intense hate there above? Or, are we swayed by a deep and pure love? Guard they their friends from their home in the sky. Watch for them, pray for them, until they die? Oh, that we knew more of that great beyond, Now, if on mortals the real truth would dawn. Perhaps we would hope for the next world to come When we could talk to and love the true Son. Then through the clouds we would silently peep — Glimpse at qui- friends and just envy their sleep. Joyce demons, ' 32.