Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

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MARS THE GODDESS OF THE DAWN O Mars, thou mighty god of war, Thou greatest soldier of the sky, Thou armed son of Jupiter, How ridest thou on high? CUPID Cupid, with thine arrows bold, The bards thy praises show; Bewitching god of days of old. Idol of every beau. VENUS O Goddess, thy sweet face and charm All men do send their praise; The mortals gaze with unbent calm, While peasants sing their lays. Eleanor Assenza, ' 33. HELEN OF TROY She has beauty, proudest beauty, Noble form and features rare, Arm of purest, whitest sheen, Wealth of lovely, silken hair. Proudly do her charming eyes, Frankly, straight before her gaze. A challenge to the dull drab world To give her classic beauty praise. Jeanette Do vning, ' 31. TO APOLLO O! Thou God of the sun! With thy chariot of gold Thou spreadest sunshine and joy To the people of old. O! Thou God of the harp! With thy music sublime. Made the minds of your hearers Forgetful of time. Ruth Hall, ' 33. A PRAYER TO DIANA Pale goddess of that silvery flood That spreads o ' er all the earth each night. Oh, grant us but a single wish. And guide us safely by thy light. Our foes pursue us. The roads are bad. Without thy light, Our fate is sad. Diana, turn not a deaf ear. While we so earnestly pray. But hear us kindly as a goddess should. And light our difficult way. Irene B. Daley, ' 33. Aurora, at the dawn of day, Sweeps the silver clouds away; Makes the light of stars grow dim, And lets the golden sunshine in. To dry the dew upon the lea. She sends her light o ' er land and sea. Fair goddess, as your chariot hies Along the cloudless, bright blue skies, I wish that you would promise me Just one short trip, that I might see The way in which you scatter cheer At every dawn, throughout the year. Freda Warner, ' 33. TO PSYCHE ' S STATUE Smooth white marble, cold and Psyche, maiden turned to stone. Love of Love, of youth most fair, Tossing back her hind ' ring hair. Bending form of sturdy grace, Motionless her perfect face, Cold stone statue, what I ' d give Now to see thy fair form live! lone, Carol Lee, ' 31. ON SEEING A SCULPTURE OF DAVID What beauty rare, what noble grace. What strength of will doth mark the face Of him who slew Goliath tall And saved the kingdom for King Saul. Such features truly these do be That if, beside this picture, we Should place one of Apollo fair, To godly features they ' d compare. John Farrington, ' 31. SIR GALAHAD Oh, Galahad, thou knight of fame. Who seeks the Grail, that holy aim, Where are thy thoughts? Flee they afar? Why dost thou gaze toward yonder star? Thy faithful steed beside thee waits, The while his master meditates. Nor he nor I will ever know What flames within thee are aglow. Priscilla Eaton, ' 31. DANTE AND BEATRICE A vision here of the power of love — Both man and maid inspired from above. Dante transformed by a woman ' s grace; Beatrice with rapture on her face. Is this the meeting in Paradise — A dream made Heaven in a trice? Phillips C. Davis, ' 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.

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TO A SKYSCRAPER (Arranged to suggest title) Hurrying workmen, Derricks, Steam shovels. Shrill whistles — Confusion and bustle — Clanging of girders. Sheets of steel; A bare skeleton — A mere shadow Of a skyscraper. Grand, glistening, Defying, awesome. Piercing the cerulean veil. Prying into heaven ' s mysteries. Symbol of sempiternal might — Grim, austere sentinel Scorning the elements. Yea, even resisting, Nay, defying God. Eleanor Hayes, ' 31. RAIN The sky is gray and overcast, The rain falls swift and free; While in the yard in miniature Are river, lake, and sea. A sparkling beauty may be seen Among the fields and grass; And Mother Earth seems very pleased That rain is falling fast. There is the rain song on the roof. And on the window pane; As though a thousand messages It brings from Heaven again. OUR FIRESroE A fireplace — a cozy fire- Bright flames and shadows Forming dream-pictures; We gaze at it: Its gentle warmth Is radiated through the room. We are fascinated by its tiny flickerings. A softer glow — Flames fading slowly — Brilliant rosy hues Changing to the gray-white Of dying embers; A sense of warmth. Of peace, and contentment — A perfect stillness: A sweet silence Broken momentarily By the quiet movement Of a falling log. Anita Salipante, ' 31. MOTHER Faithful, Loving, Understanding — My guide. Sincere, Sympathetic, Trustworthy — My Pal. Beautiful — in mind, body, and soul. Helpful — in word and deed. Giving — her life, her hopes, her dreams for me — My Mother. Ruth Towle, ' 31. To me there ' s nothing sweeter than Rain ' s freshness and rain ' s song; And rainy days are never blue, I ' m happy all day long. Pearl Conway, ' 33. SPRING Smell the freshly dampened earth; Feel the gentle swaying breeze; Watch the overflowing brook Bounding onward to fill the seas. Play among the blooming fiowers; Shout, and let the bluebells ring: Come, everyone, join in song. Rejoice! can ' t you see ' tis Spring? A MOONBEAM Can anythmg more beautiful be Than the moon ' s bar of gold across the sea? It trims each wave with an edge of gold And reaches far to lands untold. Each wave helps to carry this golden gleam Right to the stars in the heaven ' twould seem. Rita Lanigan, ' 34. Mary Walton, ' 31. WHAT THEY ARE The moon is a green cheese that ' s old as the hills. The man that lives in it has fits of the chilis. He eats of his house, just the tiniest bit. And then he is cured of his shivering fit. The snow is the crumbs that drop down from the sky, So now you can tell when he ' s eating his pie! Ruth Nute, ' 34.