June 1938 School Magazine

_J=ry

Brisbqne Girls' Grqmmor School Mqgczine

From Thy strict low, O seek us in Thy lovel Chostise us thot we leove iniquiiy Cost out the eye thot covets, ond d.issever The hond thot strikes ihe poor mon privily. Con{ound us in our pride ond moke us humble; Moke us to wolk uprighlly in Thy sight; Let us not {o11 owoy from our troditions, The excmple thot our Jothers set, o{ right. Let not our generotion shome the couroge Of Alfred, Coeur de Lion, ond of More. Moy Sidney's, Droke's ond Nelson's feorless spirlts Glow reincornoie in our lond once more And ihey who died thot we mlght e'er live peocefully O! sirive towcrd their qool with might cnd moin. But this we connot reoch Unless thot oLl ond eoch Hold fost Thy low within their heorts enshrined, And in ihe love of Thee ond o11 Thy works Will cleove together inseporobly uniied And do Thy will with glodness in their heorts. So Englond ne'er need {eor onnihilotion The while her children to their nome o)e true Resolving firm ihot they will o11 be worthy, And them their lond sholl ne'er hove couse to rue: While Enqlishmcn to Englishmon is Ioith{ul. Betroying not his brother io the foe, Per{orming without grudge, noy joy{ully, His duties io the world, his 1ond, his home, And holdinq still olofi ihe floming sworC Of foith in Thee ond knowledge of Thy will, And, os his fothers, seeking truih O Lordl Moke us to seek nought else, ond our heorts fill. With greoter understonding of Thy love, Thy beouty, ol1 Thine excellence, uniil, Come oll the povuers o{ the world ogcinst us, With Pleosure, Lust of Empire, Pride ond ol1 The domning crowd of this world's voin eniicements To lure us on till self destroyed we foll, And we sholl rise triumphont lrom their boti'ring l,ike some lone rock the seo oli night o'erwhelms, Thot lifts iis summii with the storm's oboiing, Secure ond uncrfroid, io foce the Down.'' T}IE TROPICS. The trees ore green, ond ihe vines between Donce in lhe wonton breeze, The polm }eoves sigh when the winds go by The siqh comes bock from the seos. The stors ore bright in the jungle night, And the moonlight on the streom, As it ripples olong ond sings its songs, Comes io houni you like c dreom. On the corol sond, by the breokers grond The mermoids socrt so free; And the mounioin {oce, where the ferns enloce, Looms dork by the silver seo

Elizobeth Armstrong.

E. Stenzel, \'l

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