London South Collegiate Institute - Oracle Yearbook (London, Ontario Canada)

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O GLORIOUS DEAD 0Glorious Dead. Rest in peace. and know that we, the tiring, Pledge our strength and honour to the cause. For which your blood has been so-freely shed. O God of .lIight. Grant Thy peace to these Thyfallen sons, ll'ho.for Thy cause olpeace and right. hare giren Their lices to bring this dark world to Thy light. -KEN SMITH, 12C. FOR LIBERTY Out of the deepening dusk they came, Propellors lashing the smoky air. Searching Londonfs deserted streets For women and children hiding there. As blast after blast shook down. the walls, Qf many a -hue and humble home, No cry of distress chilled the shuddering sky. No .sound but the planes' infernal drone. l'l YllPll bombers had left the smouldering town, From crowded shelters the people came, Ready and willing to carry on In. a. manner befitting Britainfs fame. -jouu SU1,1.1vAN. TO ENGLANDS GREATN ESS Though others may at times your strength defy. A nd slrire by force of arms to overcome Your ancient might, and eren may become So strong that in their power they can try By dropping mighty bombs down from the sky. Your cities to destroy. Yet though they come With planes and tanks and guns, and though from some Qf these you sutlfer loss, you never die. For in the face of all these mighty foes Is set a power which upon this earth Has nerer met its equal. Nor shall it cease To be, while yet there breathes one man who knows Oar true ideals, which lead to honest worth And liberty and never-ending peace. -BOB HUTCHINSON. AT DUNKIRIQ Their wireless signals raked the skies- No time lo lose. ll 'e'll hold the breach. .A-lndliritons rallied-from all sides To snatch an armyfrom the beach. .tln Empire wa its with hated breath Asfurlher news comes o'er the air- ll'e'll uerer yield to aught sare death God gire us strength to do our share . -NIARILYN B.xRN1is, 12A. EVENING The golden sun al last has found its place, I ts flaming locks flow softly o'er its shoulders. -ind lie upon the rugged clouds like lace, Ur beaten foam on some unyielding boulders. The cool breeze gently rocks the .fields of wheat. ,rind softly stirs the crowded meadow jloor: I l rustles yonder reeds where frogs pipe sweet. Then goes uuhooking leares which swoop and soar. .Vow as the radiant spendour starts to die. And all is hushed but the crickets' gossiping calls From meadows shining pale. the cows .lite by: A nightingale sings out: and even ing falls. -just AICLEAN. Em1oR's NllTPQIY-'ThE Oracle staff is deeply indebted to Prof. George XY. McCracken of the lfniversity of Western Ontario for consenting to judge the poems submitted in the poetry contest. Prof. McCracken is the head of the new School of journalism at the University. Prof. McCracken made the following comment on his standard for judging the poems: I have made my selec- tions on the theory that young poets should not be penal- ized too heavily because their critical sense lags behind their inspiration. He has awarded first prize to The XVqlf Hunt by Tom Abel because it is vivid, contemporary language, so ar- ranged that its impact is many times greater than a prose description of the same event would be. He states that among his reasons for awarding second prize to Winter by Mary Rollo are the skilful management of the adjectives bold , bluff and free and the excellence of the line strong binder of the brook and brake . Honourable Mention is made of the following: The Storm by Lan- don Mackenzie, Modern Art by May Smith, At Dun- kirk by Marilyn Barnes, The Seamstressu by Josephine Barrett, Oh Glorious Dead by Ken Smith. The Oracle is also publishing several poems written by former students during the years of VVorld VVar II. While these poems are not eligible for prizes, they are of interest ais refflzecting the thoughts of students during those years 0 stri e. 33

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ii POETRY THE WOLF HUNT tFi1'St Prizej A half-moon slants down through the trees As we on horseback gallop past To down that wolf who's killed our sheep. Uett bring him to his doom at last! ll'e'refoltowed him since afternoon. When we .first saw him on the hill, A nd loosed the hounds. They spread around To catch the scent and make the kill. ,elnd now my legs are stiff and sore,' Tt1e poor horse too is tuckered out. The chase we're almost given up. Hhen up ahead there comes a shout. The dogs have found the wolf at last. There on a ridge high up he runs,' The dogs, tongues out, are close behind, And we below unstrap our guns. They corner him on a ledge of rock Where. snarling. slashing, he .fights them, og, 'Tilljinally the dogs' retreat To hear the deadly carhine cough. That shot was quickg the end was quick. Ute count our wounded: one-just two. 'Twas but a paltry price in dogs, For our dead sheep were not a few. -TOM ABEL, 12A. WINTER CSG-Cond Prizej ltailt blujf King Winter, hold andfreet Hail! Monarch of .lest and .loltityl No weakling thou! No languidfriendt Strength to llS thy bujfets lend. Strong binder at the brook and lake, Great painter of hoarifrosted brake, Transforming all the sullen earth, To sparkling scenes of winter's birth. Let poets sing of 'verdant spring, Or praise of summer's glories ring: Winter, the jierce, the bold, the free, The prize, blufffriend, I give to thee. -MARY ROLLO, 12B. 32 THE STORM A distant roll of thunder shook the sky, The black and heavy clouds obscured the light, The cliffs along the shore echoed the cry Of a lone gall wheeling in seaward flight. A jagged streak of lightning pierced the gloom, A nd showed the labourers fleeing from the field, The air held now the stillness of a tomb Uith all the feel of murky hell revealed. The first wild drops of rain fell on the earth, Then steady torrents flattened leares and grass, Rirulets to great cataracts gare birth, White all were waitingfor the storm to pass. Then suddenly the world was calm. and stilled, A nd all the hearts of men with peace were filled. -LANDON MACKENUE. 12B. MODERN ART Twenty-three blades of grass, All in a row. Twenty-three more of them Following slow, With a wisp Qfpink smoke A nd a lock of blue hair, lt's named so correctly, A Day at the Fair . -MAY SMITH, 5B. THE SEAMSTRESS April is stitching with needles of rain, Her silrer thread flashes again and again. She's making a garment that cannot be seen But soon it will cover the whole earth with green. Soon in the grass her embroidery will show, Where daisies shine brightly like jtakes of white snow, A nd where the shy violet lifts her wee face, To add to the Springtime herfragrance and grace. Yes, April is stitching with jine liquid thread, She's stitching the pattern of each jtower bed, She's stitching the bark and the leaves of the trees And every green blade that will sway in the breeze April's a seamstress unmatched in her skill. She's always brought Springtime and she always wilt. She's a kind little lady who uses her art. To make earth. a garment that gladdens the heart. -J OSEPHINE BARRETT, 12B

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