1971 School Magazine

&r origime

You are our own true people, The natives of our hnd, And yet we made you outcasts- A bewildered angry band. Ile even took ltour country, And didn't even share, And tn our lust for gold,

We didn't have a care, Is it for our eyes only

To see this great brown land? Of rugged mountain ranges

And plains of dnfi4g ssnd. We put you on a dry resetve, And gave you all new homes. And took away your tribal lands- IMe made you all alone. And one by one the shadows fatl, And the sand goes drifting by, The Southern C}oss ls their gravestone, Plus a lonely sobbing cry.

Lisa Cantamessa, IIC

ilr. Spirit "f ,flot,,u Ilow,peacefully Beauty dwells within Her, 53 delicqry_Her frame; to touch was to destroy, Ilow sad Her eyes; deep poots of light, So serene Her face; fleshed divine.-

iirn" I have rn time to mend the catch,

Or darn my sock, Or wind my watch. The time is too fast, I cannot keep up, Before I breathe my Last I will have only done half of what I went to do. So. Good night! 4los the day has drawn to its end, I dream. . . I go back in time- Ihe mists of time carry me far away . . . To_a wondrous hnd of candy sticki, Of chocolate rounds,

In the gazelle leaping of ecstacy Ue eagle gliding in holy whispers, The tear slipping into sorrow The kiss of spirits of love. Ihere, there She dwells, In the wildflowers of time, On the light of all Lift By the river of Hope, And over the sweet sea of love Her song of our master doet ftoot.

And everyone licks their lips To the smell of roasting toffee. YUM! I wake ... . Wtat a lovely dream Time has begun again; A-day of bustle to catch the nain, (Knowing me I'll miss it ogain) Ah, Time is so precious . . .

Tabitha VIC

Linda Smith,IIC

Page Forty-Six