June 1942 School Magazine

June, 1942

Brisbane Gids' Grammar School Magazine

June, 1942

Brisbane Girls' Grammar School Magazine

The smooth embrace as furrowed arrows point On to eternity". But there are some who cannot feel the fire And majesty of life that they possess; All glory lies for them in large domains, Unending, leagues o! territory and wealth, Lust kills the ir souls and evil conquers good. Lo, from His throne on high, God sees the strife, He sees the need that Right must light and win, ' And so He sends success to evil-doers That Right in conquering shall be stronger yet. Then from His Soul, the centre of all Life, Coma messengers to find the souls of men- The little rays of light that lead men on Through life, and after death return again To be replenished by the Ligh t of Truth. Then all men hear the voice that calls to them, In anxious tone bidding them wake and riEe From their insipid luxury-drugg'd sleep, Startling the dawn it cries: "Fight, warriors, figh t; Fight for your fait h , fight for your country, king, Fight for the things you hold most dear and true, Fight for your God, fight to the last for Right. Crush to the ground the lecherous devil Wrong, Blow to the winds its powdery, dusty clouds That settle on the links that bind men's sculs And break the unity of Peace and Love." The soul of man, in hearing, wonders, shudders, Retreats beneath the shadow of its doubts; There rests but fe els God's mighty Inspiration And turns to battle, confident and strong. "Whence came my s treng th , my confidence?" it asks . And then, in pondering, looks towards the light That , glowing ever brighter, spreads its beams And shows men how to win and how to fight. "All praise be to the Light of Life" we sing "The inerrable God-head of delight." Strengthen our bonds shoulder our weapons, go To save the world from darkness and from hate, From misconceptions and from misery. But here, within the mids t of bursting Life, Nature's Cathedral, let us pray to Him; Let us give thanks for all the joys we've had ,

BETTY WOOLCOCK MEMORIAL ESSAY, 1941. By MOLLIE B:JOTH "Now God be thanked, who has matched us with His hour." -Rupert Brooke The darkening clouds o! war ro1l bank on bank, The golden sun, that purifies all things, The distant blue of heaven are seen no more, Now all is dark. Then as the storm clouds swing their deadly lance,

' ~ ' :

,,·.

And pour their streaming torrents on the earth They seek to vent their wrath upon the fields Where grow in g lorious splendour row on row Straight in their noble regal majesty The golden heads of grain; their cloaks of g reen Shine in the light that gives them life and power To surge and strive towards untouched realms afar High in the heavens , to reach the source and fountain Of a great Soul, intangible, ·remote, That gives to all things living, strength and beauty; That gives to trees complacent solitude; To flowers that vibrant touch. a subtle shine ; To birds, to animals, a sense of life; And then to man, a gentle understanding, A glance, a touch, a word, which shows that there Beneath a face which shows no sense or fee ling Of all the prattle of an empty world, There lies a part of that magnificent greatness Which binds him w ith the world of living beings; There in his soul a fire, a ceaseless turmoil , A restless urgent surging, a desire To know and taste and feel Divine conception, To go beyond himself, reach to the stars, Fly to a life made long and strong and lasting, Fly to a land of loveliness untouched, Flooded with golden light where none need wonder On all the anxious questionings we know That gnaw our souls a nd break our peace, and then Leave us to wonder why we wondered so . Yet while this restless turmoC rocks our lives, We meet the world with faces as of clay Moulded to show none of our wanderings, Not let them know how much we want to know. "Oh" , cries the world, "bow to your mighty lord, Kiss the p roud hand of conqueror and king; There sits your high imp eria l majesty Convention, king of kings in th is our world". "But" cry our souls, "space, g ive us space to fly Beyond the boundaries of a man-made world; Fly to the source from whence comes all the love And all the beauty and the warmth in life. In the deep hearts of bursting rose-buds nestle There with the bee; and when refreshed to fly Soaring and wheeling through the clouds as birds; Then in the stream to let the world flow by, Fee l the swift brush of waters cool a nd gentle, 22

Let us repent ungrateful thanklessness. Now are wB ready to go forth and win; Pray God we will not fail in the strife,

Pray God our strength will last unto the end, Pray God that, if in war our bodies fall, We may die gloriou; ly for Right and Him, Thus with our minds prepared, our hearts aflame, And limbs which feel the burning of our blood, We feel the great divinity of our purpose;

"Now God be thanked who has ma!chPd us with His Hour."

23