Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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24 The Branksome Slogan Clouds As I lay stretched out on the downs, with the sound of the sea beating rhymically against the cliffs beneath, I watched History in the making. High above me, as if in a different world, England was being attacked and valiantly defended by the ' ' few to whom so many owe so much . It was horribly fascinating to watch them swerve, turn, and dive into the clouds, chasing each other as if in some crazy game; sick- ened, I watched a tiny dot fall from the sky, a llaming pyre, as a gallant defender plummeted to death below. Words of a young poetess came echoing through my brain — ' ' a broken body in a burning plane, but his soul goes soaring on . There was not always action over our section of the coast and, dur- ing the miHiuy hours I spent in fruitless search for the hordes from the sky, I learned to glory in the beauty of the clouds. Early in the mornings my eyes sought to pierce the damp stillness o£ the mist. I gazed upon the impeneti able, bland, gray curtain above. I saw with wonder how that mass of vapour disintegrated and let the first yellow rays of early morning sun breathe through to Wtake the sleepy world. It was summer, and, as soon as the brisk breeze had swept the last cobweb of mist and dew from the eiarth, all was bright and warm. Pure white clouds, like snowbails pitched by playful children, blotted the blue heavens and glided smoothly, like snowy swans swimming effortlessly in calm serenity over a magic lake. Weird shapes caught my fancy and I watched, intrigued by this slow motion kaleidoscope of white, pale gray, and sun-tinted clouds. Clouds, however, have their darker moments too, and sometimes the sun was eclipsed by a mass of white and gray clouds like those from a Constable landscape, bringing a sudden shadow over the country-side. I watched clouds unite in ever densifying bands and chains until the sky w as over-hung with a heavy wall of dull gray. The Channel, obeying the mood of the sky, swelled in sullen weaves, smooth, silent, and gray. A deadened, muffled silence like that one senses early in the morning after a heavy snowstorm, pervaded the atmosphere. Then, at last, as if the low hanging clouds became tired of carrying their buredn, soft, fine rain fell. At other times, when the wind kept high all day, I grew dizzy watching the little wind-blown smudges scudding merrily across the sky, blown by the wind into almost transparent, feathery, trailing veils. By late afternoon the sky would be ridged with row upon row of herring- bone clouds, through Which the descending sun cast its last brilliant rays upon the land beneath. It reminded me of how, only too soon, man-made beams pointing upward would reveal death from the skies.

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The Branksome Slogan 23 PEACE Peace has a meaning deep and true, That dwells in the heart of all mankind, In days of battle, strife, and pain. We ask, Will there ever be peace again? ' God, will there ever be peac2 again? And shall we all be together once more? When we have learned the mean- ing of peace. Then there will never again be war. ELIZABETH WINTER, (Form V S). A STUDENT ' S SOLILOQUAY (Apologies to the Immortal Bard) Is this a paper that I see before me. The questions in bold print? Come. let me try them! I know them not, and yet I see them still. Hast thou not, fatal paper. answers as Well as questions? Or art thou but A torture for the mind, a subtle trick Proceeding from some heartless cranium? I see thee yet, in form unanswer- able As those I ' ve tried before. I thought I knew my verbs and Geometry, Was able to quote Milton without thought, But my brain has made a foci of all my hopes. Has shown me I ' m no genius. I see thee still And by thy questions, marks of little value, Which Mean I ' m ruined. MARION COBBAN and ELIZABETH BUSK ' ' Hanson! What on earth is the idea of wearing my new trench coat? ' Well, Pov ell old girl, you cer- tainly don ' t want your new spring suit to get wet.

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ourth Form