June 1931 School Magazine

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Brisbane Girls' Gramrnar School Maga,zine.

Brisbane Girls ' Gra mmar School Ma,gazine.

neeclecl. Animals anc1 florn'els, and rnice ancl poor people, r rere good enough now. So, here r^'as irly chance. NI;' pet wish realisecl. I tc1 write a Romantic poeln about-about something no one had written about before-no Sunrises or Moonlit Seas for me--yes, il bec1. On Sunclay I workecl in nly room all the afternoorl, ancl just before tea-time I came,clorlrn r.vith a triumphant.smile o11 lny face anrl joy in my heart. I hacl sllcceeclecl. Nothjng like this had. been written before. NIy father ancl nrother shoulcl be the fi.rst to share in lny happiness. ( ( Fath er," I criecl, ( ( at last I have macle your name for you! Congrzrtu* late nie! This," I saicl, r(is Ltr poem that will live for errer. Listen," I saitl' THE BtrD. Silken eurtains axcl Frills and Bon's ancl pillows Drape the Becl My f ather sleeps On. Wonclerful, glorious posts That bear the becl My father sleeps oo, carved With all I{incls of florvers Pillows white, and sheets, and. . Blankets and mattresses And At this point I observecl my

for. ((L liner" reacl the folmula, "cotrsists of five iambic feet llines rhylns in pairs, ancl these are called couplets (comma, I take that to be ) f alls in the miclclle of eacli line Ifere it was, as plairr as clay. The trouble was that the book saicl these couplets were goocl for satire ancl controversy, and I rn'antecl them to clothe profound thought. I resolved to take no notice of tiris last hint" I went home ancl began a rn'ork whj-ch was to beconr-e imrnortal" Tt was callecl ' ( Ren'arcls of Olcl Age. t ' A fin e piece of work that" I{early every line rhymecl. (The book said nothing about not using' the same worel at the enil of eaeh line.) I took it to school with clreams of applause frorn nly friends ancl smiles froin the mistresses. I even hopecl the Head woulcl shake hancls with me. The poen began with the perfect couplet- ( ( The Ant with endless la, bour earns his foocl And in winter it tastes extrem.ely goocl. ', I hacl every reason to be]ier-e uly f ain e was assured. Alas for my hopes ! My reward rn'as riclicule ancl nicle remarks. At every step I took sorireone was sure to give nie a foldecl piece of papei' labellect i r l.[oln' to Become a Poet, ' ' or something like that. But I thought of Keats an d bore it ali ; al I the sane, T l\'as f urious underneath. What ts wrong with the lines I 'r'e quotecl, anyhow ? They rhyme, they make a couplet. There's a pause in the midclle of one line, and it ,s sound philosophy. The comtna cloes fall in the miCclle of a rn ord, anrl rn,inter has to have atr accent to make the foot right, but then what is poetic licence for if a poet can't use Lt1, I u'aited for recogn tion but none came, so I begara to thirik that after all it was as a prose n'riter f 'd make my mark. The rnore I thought of it the surer f became. You mightn't believe Lt, but I drearnt of it every Sunclay evening, and my Sun clay d reams alwat,s colne true, Others hal'e become f etrnotrs just bcearise th eir st;rle was 1otecl for simplicitv ol'energy or clireetness. Norv, nly styie is full of eioqgence and grace. fngenious sentences are aclorned n'ith marrrellous worcls, and d eep thoughts are expressed in such a mysterious way as to cause wond er'. I tracl a,iready thought of e title for m)'novel: ((The Reminiscences of One Once Threatenecl bv a llydroeephalus " (Hydrocephalus being a pre-historic animal) , ancl was look-ing f or things to put in the story when we began to l earn about the Roinaritic movement irt Literature- Now, Romance I love. It's in me. This is not boasting, but even when f tm speaking about very serious subjects, such as ( ( The Applica- tion of lluman fntelligenee on Subjects Divine arrd Otherwise,', or | (The Prerogative of Youth,'' people tell me Itm romancing. From this it"is clear that the stucly. of Romanticism appealed to me. And now things came out just as I rvanted them. Poetry no longer need rhyme. Collins u'rote a famous Ode to Evening without a single rhyrne, and lines of all lengths. Then satires and controversies were not A pause

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mother steal weeping out of the roorn- would bri4g tears into anybocly ts e)res- of ernotion, too, so I continued with

I krterv it ! This work of mine My f ather was shou-ing signs heightened voice---

quilts My father here srn'eetly snores;

Mouth open, Toes peeping Ne ath A book lanclecl on a chair behind ffi€, anc-l I flecl. Anct now I've to go to a new school, where the;r dorr tt teach the cletails in the Evolutio' of Poetry' 1 -F /r^-^-^o -8. Cocones, VI.

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NIGI{T. Night is silenee ; bl a.ch and- g1e;rming I-,ies the ri i'er, the great river, Night is tine for bouncliess d rearning, And its secrets hold. for ever,