Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

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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.

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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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JACK— MY DOG THE FLOWER QUEEN ' Whatcha s ' pose is keepin ' Jack? It ' s way past time thet he wuz back. Sure, I cain ' t figure thet guy out. He ' s sech a gosh-durned lazy lout. Which flower would you choose for Queen? They ' re all so sweet and fair — The star-eyed daisy, the tulip red. The Mayflower so rare. ' Mornin ' ! He don ' t get up till noon, And then he thinks it ' s too durn soon. I don ' t think he will ever larn, But I guess he don ' t give a darn. The rose is sweet, it breathes perfume. Its head held up with pride; But thorns it has, and soon it fades, And drops where it has died. Naw, he don ' t care what time o ' day- Jest all he does is lay and lay. The deepest sleep you ever seen; I jest cain ' t get it through my bean. The lily white is straight and tall And purer than the snow; But lilies are too delicate To stand when strong winds blow. And then at night, why he stays out Until I ' m sick, or nigh about. Jest thinkin ' where thet he has gone. I wish some he warn ' t never bom. The dignified larkspur reflects The blue toward which it towers; But larkspur give no fragrance rare To sweeten summer hours. But then I might as well jest quit And not worry another bit. ' Cause, if he ain ' t out chasin ' ' coon. He ' s out tha baying at the moon! Arnold Dunn, ' 31. DREAMS I should like to go where the white sand drifts In billowing dunes, and gentle rifts; I should like to go where the cold winds blow. O ' er solemn wastes and fields of snow. I should like to go like the pirates of old, And seek for the fabulous Inca gold; I should like to follow the pioneers ' trail Through forest deep, and hidden vale. I should like to go where the wild waves roar; I should like to go where the mountains soar; I should like to go — the seas to explore. The whole, wild world to wander o ' er. Esther Loughlin, ' 32. SUNSET I looked in the lake as I passed by And saw the glow of the western sky; While overhead the Evening Star Shone with radiance from afar. The sun looked like a scarlet ball As it sank to rest beyond us all; And the purple and gold of heaven it seems Was enough to fulfill an artist ' s dreams. Then with a thrill I raised my eyes As if to challenge those gorgeous skies; Slowly the colors faded away. And night appeared in dark array. Ruth Dickhart, ' 34. So, after all, perhaps there is No Queen of Flowers to praise; But each is lovely, sweet and pure — Each in its separate ways. Esther Pratt, ' 34. THE CONQUEROR Black smoke Like Rumor Rises, Spreads out And, lying low. Obscures all With dark gloom. Then clear-eyed Truth Like a fresh breeze. Herald of Spring, Gently drifting On its way From golden fields Studded with flowers. Dispels the threatening horror. Letting the sun Once more flood the earth With gorgeous light. Eleanor Hayes, ' 31. NIGHT The blue gold waters glimmer With the sheen of the glowing moon; And the shadows on the water Sway with the wind ' s soft croon. The dusky flowers whisper. And the dream harp fills the night; The moon paths cut the darkness With their silver strips of light. Ruth O ' Connell, ' 31.