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Gatepost Poem Frequency and Locations Timeline: 1-20 Scatter Plot A scatter plot depicting the number of poems and their page locations found in one issue per volume of the first 20 volumes of FSU's The Gatepost newspaper. The values on the x-axis refer to the year each referenced issue was published, and the values on the y-axis indicate the number of poems found. The colors of the dots correspond with specific page numbers, as indicated in the legend at the bottom.
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Gatepost Poetry Top 5 Words: 1-20 Bubbleine A bubbleine graph depicting the locations and frequency of the top 5 words used in poems found in one issue per volume of the first 20 volumes of FSU's The Gatepost newspaper. Each line represents the text from all 47 poems, and each circle indicates the locations and frequency of the color-corresponding word.
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Gatepost Poetry Word Cloud: 1-20 A word cloud depicting the top 60 most commonly used words in poems found in one issue per volume of the first 20 volumes of FSU's The Gatepost newspaper.
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Gatepost Poems by Page Number: 1-20 Bar Graph A bar graph depicting the page locations by number of poems found in one issue per volume of the first 20 volumes of FSU's The Gatepost newspaper. The values on the x-axis refer to the page numbers which contained poetry, and the values on the y-axis indicate the number of poems found.
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Gatepost Poetry Article Type: 1-20 Disc Graph A disc graph depicting the two methods of publishing poems (quoted in a larger article or published as a standalone article) found in one issue per volume of the first 20 volumes of FSU's The Gatepost newspaper.
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Gatepost Poems By Author Demographic: 1-20 Pie Graph A pie graph depicting the demographics of authors who have submitted poems found in one issue per volume of the first 20 volumes of FSU's The Gatepost newspaper. The demographics include authors who submitted poetry while they were students, alumni, poetry sourced to institutions with no known relationship to FSU, poetry sourced to individuals with no known relationship to FSU, poets who were guest speakers at FSU, and a mystery category which designates poetry with no attributed author or whose author may or may not have a relationship with FSU (further research is required).
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Gatepost Poems Per Issue: 1-20 Line Graph A line graph depicting the number of poems found in one issue per volume of the first 20 volumes of FSU's The Gatepost newspaper. The values on the x-axis refer to the volume and issue being referenced, and the values on the y-axis indicate the number of poems found.
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The Gatepost Vol. 14.6: Secret Unspoken and Unseen "Secret Unspoken and Unseen
Outside this house upon this city hill
The coldest wind of winter pries at window, Fans out the snow from lawn and empty lot The way a mower fans out August hay.
Here from this window where I stand and watch And feel the slanted sun across my face, Is conjured up another, further scene Where winter dominates an island coast And locks it fast within a crusted bay.
Now does the cautious traveler on its shore Remember rocks the snow has camouflaged; Observe the nearer water: thickened; still; Froze hard to zig-zagged boulders, crystal spray. Now does he blink at dazzle just beyond Where ice smooths out to whiteness; thins to blue;
Becomes a moving sea, pierced by the sun.
Outside this house upon this city hill A snowplow vibrates slowly into view. And wind and man-made plow battle the snow Until it lies quite level, flat, and hard.
And high, neat mounds are margin to all walks. The wind that wrestled with the plow retreats. But not for long. With January whim It soon returns, and spins the new-piled snow Back to the street. And man’s conceit in taming Natural law dissolves again. The sun Shines down upon a brilliant world, Its secret still its own, and God’s.
—Bertha Carter Ruark ’37.
Courtesy of Deer Isle Messenger."
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The Gatepost Vol. 13.6: Soliloquy-Saturday Night "Soliloquy-Saturday Night
Here we are; the evening drags past.
How much longer must this ennui last!
I don’t like you at all.
You tend to be short; I like my men tall.
Your eyes are brown; I much prefer blue;
And my dream man has hair of much darker hue. Dick is much smoother; Jack’s more my type, Or that ex of Sis’—the one with the pipe!
You’re really impossible; your humor is vile;
But I sit here and say, “Darling, how droll you are!”—and smile.
You can’t see Symphony, Saroyan, or Stein— Your ideas never coincide with mine.
You glower at me when I tune in a crooner— If I ever see you again, it’ll be later, not sooner! How can you be so terrifically boring?
Your repartee’ll soon have me snoring.
Woman, scuttle those thoughts ! Come out 'of that trance.
He’s the only man left you can drag to the danqe!
Evelyn Kirkpatrick, ’45."
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The Gatepost Vol. 11.6: "Twelve gathered round the table, with Rita at the head" "Twelve gathered round the table, with Rita at the head,
And Mr. Taylor at the foot. A brave man it was said,
To face so many schoolma’ams, but quite at ease was he;
He's used to them and understands—he married one, you see.
First came the task of choosing, 'twixt chicken, ham or fish.
No matter what we ordered, it was a savory dish, With soup and rolls and coffee that warmed us through and through,
Then cake, ice cream or sherbet—what silly things we do I
We chose 'twixt all the sauces, and some did then partake
Of Kirkshire’s extra special delectable rum cake.
So after more hot coffee and cream mints for a treat
We paid the bill, declaring our dinner most comj plete.
We heard reports and motions and talked, as mortals do;
We voted in our officers to serve the New Year through,
And pledged again our efforts to help as best we could
The urgent need of Framinghaih, as loyal daughters should.
We shivered, we’ll admit it, but when our work was done,
We gathered round the Brickett fire and had a little fun
In bidding at the auction of luscious things to eat—
Cream puffs, date squares, and brownies, it was a treat!
And there were jars of pickles, and handwork for the home.
These added up together to make a tidy sum.
Thus one more page is written in our Club’s history,
Which proves we have the spirit of Framingham, you see,
That burns so strong within us, no matter what the weather,
We’ll carry on for Framingham forever and FOREVER.
Elizabeth Cushing Taylor, 1906."
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The Gatepost Vol. 10.6: A Sad Tale With a Happy Ending "A SAD TALE WITH A HAPPY ENDING
A muscular mussel
Was having a tussle
With a lobster most annoying.
"You cur, sir I
Infer, sir,
That the tactics you’re employing
Arc vicious,
Most officious,
And your claws I find too cloying I” “Cur, sir?
Defer, sir,
Your bitter accusation.
A claw (I find)
Is (to my mind)
The thing in disputation.
It cuts so clean and quick
With one decisive lick!
But on your hide, You chowder’s-pride, It will not work, I’ve found!" "Aba,” the clever clam replied, “It's ’cause I’m mussel-bound I”
Anne Moynahan, ’43."
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The Gatepost Vol. 10.6: London 1941 "LONDON 1941
The bombs fall over London, over London, over London.
The bombs fall over London, and Death rides in the sky.
Whoever walks in London when silver streaks fly by
Shall hear Death’s whispered calling, and the droning siren’s cry.
The bombs fall over London, over London, over London.
The bombs fall over London, an Empire hears Death's tread.
The bombs fall over London, a nation mourns her dead.
When quiet comes to London, and children play in streets,
The rain shall fall on London, on London.
The rain shall fall on London, the quiet rain and peace.
Barbara A. Egan, ’42."
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The Gatepost Vol. 9.5: "Oh, the Class of ’39 has traveled far since graduating" "Oh, the Class of ’39 has traveled far since graduating,
Tho whether ’tis ahead or not is matter for debating.
But anyhow, regardless, you have got to give them credit,
Tho I go down in history the only one that said it.
We haven’t written many books or married any midgits,
But you couldn’t count the kind remarks to every kid that figets.
We are not shapely models, widely famous for our poses,
But you should see us on the job, blowing kiddies’ noses.
“For this we went to college,” is our day by day lament,
When zippers stick and clothes go on in ways that were not meant,
When rubbers get themselves mixed up and little Johnny cries,
“Ma said if I lose those, again, she’ll put the teacher wise!”
The dears are so original, especially as cooks, The recipes that they create would make a set of books.
Their manners for invited guests are marvelous to watch,
And yet in spite of undue care, the meal they’re sure to botch.
The ones who sew with gusto have the longest seams to rip,
And there are those who can confuse the waist line with the hip.
Oh, rural schools and city ones won’t leave you standing still,
For if a blizzard doesn’t come a supervisor will. In teaching lies the world’s great hope, I’ve often heard it said;
For some of us our only hope is that we’ll soon be wed!"
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The Gatepost Vol. 9.5: Spring Vacation "Spring Vacation
April twenty-fourth to twenty-eighth, inclusive New Spring suits.
India Wharf, Atlantic Avenue, Boston—
Off to Washington via New York!
Sunrise on the Atlantic.
Express to Washington.
Brown and white saddles:
Cherry blossoms in bloom.
White House, Lincoln Memorial, the mint;
Sore feet.
Sunset on the Potomac.
7 A. M.—time to get up.
Brown and whites.
Mount Vernon, Congressional Library, Congress, Supreme Court.
Free evening!
All aboard for Philadelphia!
More brown and whites:
Liberty bell, Independence Hall, Fairmont Park.
Back to the Big City, Pennsylvania Station
34th Street—Look at Macy’s!
Rush for boat on West Street.
Sunset on the Atlantic
Sunrise in Boston Harbor.
Epilogue
Why don’t you take advantage
Of this glorious trip.
See America first.
See Marguerite Eagan second for further information.
Price—for all this—only $35
Why don’t YOU take advantage
Of this glorious trip!
Theresa Caruso ’42."
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The Gatepost Vol. 2.7: Sister, Can You Spare a Dime? "Sister, Can You Spare a Dime?
We work on our paper, make it pay, Make it race against time.
We get out our paper. Now, we say, Sister, can you spare a dime?
We work on our paper day and night— This |>art we do not mind.
Now to pay us back, oh, don’t be tight— Sister, can you spare a dime?
Once we didn’t have any paper at all;
You said, "We shall," and elected a staff; Now we’ve worked it-up, improved it a lot,
We sell a few, maybe a half.
Say, won't you consider what it is worth To have a paper so fine?
And won't you reach down, even if it hurts.
Oh, Sister, won't you spare a dime?
S. L. M. '33."
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The Gatepost Vol. 1.1: The Old Bookshop "The Old Bookshop
Alone,
On the corner it stands,
That old bookshop
Where many hours
Are spent
By those who know
And love it.
It does not mean much
To the passing crowd
Who turn
And remark
For something better.
“That place should be razed."
But to a chosen few
It is their joy In life.
They will spend
An hour
Or maybe two
With row upon row
Of friends
In that old bookshop.
V. N. R. '34."
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The Gatepost Vol. 1.1: The Herald "The Herald
Treading lightly, gayly, softly,
Spreading fragrance, bringing light,
Comes the herald of the sov'reign,
On the very heels of night.
Winter’s icy barriers crumble,
Snow-bound fields before her melt;
They bow down before her power,
Those who winter blasts have felt.
Who is this most radiant being,
She whose praises all winds sing?
She is love, and joy, and beauty;
She, the lovely herald—Spring!
V. N. R. '34."
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The Gatepost Vol. 1.1: To Freshmen "To Freshmen
This superficial soliciting
For friendship
Cannot be good.
It speaketh not of heart
But only of look and manner.
Draw within thyself
A little more
And tho' being not
Too self-sufficient,
Wipe off thy masque
And be a Heartfelt do'er.
A. M., '34."