All day, all night, I can hear the jar of the loom of life; and near and far It thrills with its deep and muffled sound, As the tireless wheels go always around. Busily, ceaselessly goes the loom In the light of day and the midnight’s gloom. The wheels are turning early and late, And the wool is wound in the warp of fate. Click, clack! There’s a thread of love wove in. Click, clack! And another of wrong and sin. What a checkered thing will this life be When we see it unrolled in eternity! Time, with a face like mystery And hands as busy as hands can be, Sits at the loom with its warp outspread, To catch in its meshes each glancing thread. When shall this wonderful web be done? In a thousand years, perhaps— or one— Or tomorrow. Who knoweth? Not you nor I. But the wheels turn on, and the shuttles fly. Ah, sad-eyed weaver! The years are slow, But each one is nearer the end, I know; And some day the last thread shall be woven God grant it be love instead of sin! — Anonymous. Whether the melody Music is that fragile, but enduring, thread woven into the fabric of our lives. Why is music so essential? Not merely so that we may become culturally enriched, but also so that we may enjoy the freshness of heart that it brings. This marvelous gift brings happiness. It brings an inner peace. And it brings both musician and audience a greater understanding of the ties that bind all men together. is sweetly sung, swelling with the winds and drums of the band, gently filling the air with orches- tral violins; it brings pleasure. The musician has become an artist. May the memories of Weber High be as melodies painted on the larger canvas of our future lives.