Lyric Rainbow
Edited by TFalter Evans Kidd
God in His World
The moon, the pretty, pretty moon,
Wears a darling, darling shoon
As she tripeth ’cross the night—
The lovely pjght—in dreadful flight
From the awful, sinful earth
Where men make a jazzy mirth.
Oh, God, I kneel in prayer to Thee
And I could weep a salty sea
O’ tears— o’ scalding tears tragic—
Oh, I do wish I had a power magic
To fill men’s hearts with kindly God
To make them more than wicked sod.
Oh, God, take mine trembling hand
And leadeth me unto Thine Land.
—MARTHA HENNLEY
Sunset
Between the breasts of hill
the flame-gold sunset
reaehed its fingers
toward me—
feeling across the purpled soft
ness—
it called.
I stood—awed—inebriated by
its wondrousness—
I could not grasp its meaning
with tmy little mind
(made for little things)
Between the breasts of hill
it called—
and, hesitant, I saw it burn—
die—
(felt the cool night wind
draw its robe across my face
—around me)
hesitant I.
—E. B.
Queen White Hyacinth
Leaning on her knight of court
The green shoot,
Intoxicated with her own per
fume
Swooning from her own beauty.
—ellen g. McClellan.
Night
’Neath my moon what doest
thou,
tVith a somewhat paler brow
Than she giveth to the oceanf
He, without a pulse or motion,
Muttering low before her
stands,
Lifting his invoking hands
Like a seer before a sprite,
To catch her oracles of light;
But thy soul out-trembles now
Many pulses on they brow.
Where be all the laughters
clear,
Others laughed alone to hear?
Why they quaint jests, said for
fame?
Where they dances mixed with
game?
Where thy festive companies,
Mooned o ’er with ladies ’ eyes
All more bright for thee, I
trow?
’Neath mine moon, what doest
thou?
• *
—E. B.
Poems to You
I.
You are my dream
Of a Manchu princess;
Hair of jet,
Skin of pearl,
Cunningly painted mocking lips—
Eyes of a hundred dancing flames.
You sit in a garden
By the lacquer gates S
And watch the peacocks strut lazily up and down
You throw cake to the gold and silver fish
Gliding about in the lapis pool. i
Do you wait
For_a lover,
Oh dr’eam of mine ?
n.
You are a shadow on a still pool,
Shadow of a silver birch,
Shadow quivering as the fishes pass,
The amber fish with lazy fins,
Shadow darkening as the twilight comes,
And still
The amber fish swim to and fro.
—MARY FITCH.
Resurgence
Down from the sombre heights
they come
The mighty blasts which sweep
all life before them,
And thru thei crumbling wall of
old resistance
Creeps the red-blue flame of
death.
Strange yearnings eome
Death—night—and the stars—'
And with the keen curved acim
iter of pain
I fight my way into the world
again.
—ALICE ANN TUTHILL, ’25.
• • <
Cherry Blossoms
V cherry tree" in bloom
Overhangs the old millrace,
[ts snow white blossoms misty,
Like a veil of rare old lace.
knd all her filmy splendor
From the earth she must ob
tain
knd like a million mortals,
This gift has made her vain.
-ETHA JEANNE CLABK, ’28
t •
Failure
And if I fail today, what of tomorrow?
Will anyone but me remember long!
Why should I let my failure bring me sorrow
When no one even knew I had a song—
When no one ever dreamed I had within me
A coal of anything, a smouldering spark,
And so could never guess that I had fanned it
To stir its warmth and fire to light my dark?
So, if I fail today how can it matter
That I have striven long—no one will see.
There will remain no trace—no scar of failure—
But only my remembrance—haunting me.
—MERLE OLIVER.
* * • *
Buttercup Dawn
The buttercups hold
The lyric of truth
In silence of gold
For first of their youth.
A calico girl r
With eden-blue eyes,
Heard larks uncurl
Their souls in the skies.
An overall boy
With freckle-tan nose, ■
Felt erystal joy
Through dew on his toes.
They both now are gone—
In one pause of time
Life sang the dawn
To buttercup rhyme.
—WALTER EVANS KIDD.
(From “The Harp Magazine”)
Communications
♦
(Continued from page two)
laine could not sanction realism in
art; nor could Wordsworth. Bar
bey d’Aurevilly, Swinburne, and Os
car Wilde all follow Baudelaire in
the attempt to produce sensual ap
peal. Anyone familiar with J.-K.
Huysmans will remember his de
scription of Gustave Moreau’s work
in which Huysmans strives to rival
the painter in richness of colour.
As will be seen in the above, the
opinions on Poetry are so diverse
that there can be no one truth in
the matter. However, I feel justi
fied in asserting that although the
pattern or form in which Poetry
may be embodied differs, still ail
Poetry must possess That Some
thing which carries an aesthetic ap
peal,—That Something may be
simply defined as Beauty.
That which the ordinary reader
realizes in some way in a human
personality. But what does he de
mand of the poetf The explana
tion of the age? No! He demands
Beauty. It matters little to him
if the work be useless from the
social point of view: the import
ant question is, has the artist pro
duced a beautiful work"?
Tours truly, \
FREDERICK SCHLICK.
POET AGREES WITH SCHLICK
To the Editor:
Dear Sir:
In view of the fact that a con
troversy has arisen over the so
called poetry of our little news
paper, I feel it necessary that my
attitude and opinion toward the
matter be known along with those
already expressed, not only because
I am one of the attacked, but be
cause I too enjoy a bit of excite
ment occasionally and feel a thrill
of joy at contributing to the melee.
In the first place I agree with
Mr. Schlick in everything. I
truthfully believe that our poetry
isn’t much good, and that like most
of the things on this campus has
loads of room for improvement. It
is purely the ravings of enthus
iastic minds yearning to express
themselves, and it is fine and
splendid of our campus paper to al
low us to air our little impressions
Alice Terry
Conway Tearle
Wallace Beery
Huntley Gordon
YOUR LAST
CHANCE
TO SEE
Zona Gale’s
MISS
LULU BETT
The Comedy they’re
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Ask Those Who
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GUILD
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in its Thursday column.
After all, college is to encourage
and bring out all that which is
striving toward an attempt at cre
ating, and the “poets” of the Uni
versity don’t pretend, I am sure,
to be geniuses. They are only
working toward perfection, and, I
agree with Mr. Schliek, they are
very far from it. In spite of all
our apparent braggodocio, we real
ize that, but criticism, when of
fered in the manner in which he
gave it, is not accepted willingly
by amateurs. We are only too
aware of our faults—they are too
near the surface, and consequently,
are a sore spot with us.
Our sarcastic replies were
prompted by the same note in the
letter of Mr. Schlick. I’m sure
that if he had attempted to criti
cize us in tone less harsh, and with
a motive of helping to correct our
faults, we should have paid heed to
his letter and respected his criti
cism.
I welcome any criticism, myself,
if it is given in a spirit of kind
ness, for I realize that my work
is inferior in a great many respects,
and could largely benefit by the
right type of correction. If Mr.
Schlick, who has had so many ad
vantages and so much experience
before coming to the University of
Oregon, could have offered his
knowledge to us in the right spirit,
we should have accepted it gladly.
I hope this controversy, which
has become childishly personal, will
be forgotten, and that we neophytes
Help Wanted
We have a few more attrac
tive positions for college stu
dents who wish to work dur
ing spring vacation. Good
salary guaranteed. Write
566 Pittock Block, Portland,
Oregon.
may enjoy, in a sane and unpreju
diced way, the criticism and help
of those who are willing to offer
it.
PHILIPPA SHERMAN.
MATHEMATICIAN SPEAKS
To the Editor:
And I have heard several Ore
gon editors and many alumni praise
the Lyric Rainbow column. I hope
Mr. Woodward will give more space
to poetry.
’ A MATHEMATICIAN.
Dc Rotjal Qick
Stati
o fiery
the Oregon Spirit." m'tim® A
OW
Th
&?£” *w
STAMONERy
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J&vjeiffi-pii
ANNE DEAR:
Never was so busy—the Stu
dent Union drive is taking every
minute, hence the short letter.
It’s going over big I feel sure.
Every pledge is registered on the
huge thermometer in front of the
drive headquarters — and the
mark is climbing fast.
* » •
Because every moment ia so
prycious these days I went down
t6 the Bose La Vogue Shop and
had any hair marcelled—and now
I don’t have to think of it. It
gives one such a sure feeling to
know that one looks one’s best.
Hurrying about on these crowd
ed days one has not time to fuss
about misplaced locks. The Bose
La Vogue marcels are excellent
and stay in for a remarkably
long time.
* • *
What could be more suggestive
of spring than tulipsf At Baup’s
Floral Shop, we bought some
wax-like tulips in bright yellows
! and contrasting shades. They
I add a touch of color to an other
[ wise drab room. They have dif
i ferent sized tulips, and in a great
1 variety of colors.
i
Clever slips are needed wit!
the bright flannel and tub sill
dresses which are so popular thii
spring. At the Art and Needle
craft Shop, which is on Wesi
Ninth street, next to the Firsl
National Bank, I got a charming
silk crepe, shadow-proof slip, t<
match my coral dress. They alsc
have these slips in other colors
as well as many styles. The ra
dium slips are adorable also.
We had a delicious salad this
noon that was made with Hein:
beans, combined with celery and
cucumbers. They were bought al
Underwood and Elliott's Grocery
where a Heinz 57 demonstrate)
is preparing appetizing dishes tc
show housewives how to use th<
various products. The demon
strator will be there on Saturday
also. ,» Vj ■
» * •
Hazel and several of the other
girls who have been allowing
their hair to grow all winter
went to the Oo-ed Barber Shop
yesterday, and bad their hair
bobbed again. With signs of
spring, the fever for bobbed hair
seems to grasp even those who
were apparently the most enthus
iastic for long hair.
• • •
For the after-graduation bride
—a lovely chest of Community
silver with a fifty year guaran
tee! I would almost be willing
to get married just to receive one
of these fine chests. Skate’s
are showing the Bird of Parudise i
pattern which is unusual in shape
and distinctive in design. One
may start with six each of the
necessary pieces and then build
it up as circumstances permit.
i • i
I must away—and after more
prospects for the Student Union,
r tell you, Anne, we’re going to
;et that community center yet—
iust watch!
CAROL.
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