Selwyn House School - Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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,13- Monlreal. flicer, n O tio Informa U.K. Davies, H. T. Mr. and ak VV YCI Sa of ment OVCYI1 G r for C6 Ofli ormation nf nes, I Philip Jo I'. M Lefl 0 G. B. Foote, D.D., R.C.N 95 Cenire: Chaplain of the Fleet Ern Upper Rev Murray C Mogor, B.D. he School, and asler of t rM Senia Howis, formerly r. B. K. T. M er Cenlre W Lo amy. nephew and oy G. Ballunlyne r Murr hlM Rig

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26 SELWYN HOUSE SCHOOL MAGAZINE LITERARIH .TIC A STORM REMEMBERED ln February T952 a storm of wind swept over the British Isles doing great damage to the woodlands. Listen to that mournful howl, like wolfhound kept at bay, Enchambered in a kennel-house where he must always stayl Listen to that rushing sound- wind roaring in its course! Listen to the thundering noise of that great mystic force! Listen to the storm, my son, listen to the roar: Hark to the tempest ravaging and keep this night in shore. To the westward trees are falling: from the east there comes the light. Many lives may be lost at sea, my son, on such a fearsome night. For seven dreadful hours or more upon the seabound land The wind brought havoc in its wake across the rocks and sand, Tore roofs, hurled fence and paling down and mighty timbers too- Oh, there was such a vasty storm in Nineteen fifty-two! For seven peaceful years and more the folk have cleared away The giant corpses of the trees that died on that great day, Hurled to the ground by mighty force that fecrrful night before, When stormy winds their passions hurled against the westward shore. Through the fields of time the memory has brought forth from its shore The mighty sound, the mournful moan, the winds impassioned roar. David Walker, THE GOOD SHIP SOVEREIGN The Sovereign was a mighty ship, A mighty ship was she, And on one sunny afternoon, The Sovereign went to sea. The captain was a good man, A very good man was he, But, oh, the crew was terrible, As terrible as could be. The captain did not trust them, But what was he to do? He knew he could not fight them, They were thirty in the crew. Oh, but on the third day, The crew all turned on him, And they threw him in the ocean, For they knew he could not swim. The captain cried and shouted, The crew ignored his plea, And soon he sank beneath the waves To the bottom of the sea, But now, the crew aboard the ship, Were filled with mighty fear, None knew the way to navigate- And none of them could steer! The Sovereign was a mighty ship, A mighty ship was she, Shes gone to loin her captain At the bottom of the sea, Peter Stein, r Form V Form IV

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28 SELWYN HOUSE SCHOOL MAGAZINE SONG OF THE TREASURE-SEEKER l've wandered over many a foreign land, Searching for that which Nature has in store. l've heard Niagara's foam-flecked waters roar: l've been from Abadan to Samarkand. I've seer the Yellow River and l've heard The kookaburra with his harsh voice call. I've seen a toad held in a python's thrall, A hindu tread on fire-coals undeterred. What have I found, though I have searched Tibet, Though I have trod the Asian iungles deep, And seen the dens where dragons used to sleep, And wandered westward till the sun has set? ln poverty oft, in trouble, fear and pain, Full three-score years in wanderings have l lost, But won a glorious hoard, worth all the cost- The memories that only wanderers gain. David Walker, Form V SKIING ADVICE You're zooming down the skiing slopes Your legs are hanging from the roof At near the speed of sound, Attached by hooks and string. And as you hear a shout behind, Your head is very, very sore, You chance to look around. Your arm is in a sling. ln front of you there is a tree, To all of you, who like to ski, You hit it going fast. And understand this verse, And as you wake in hospital, Try not to go as fast as sound, Around you is a cast. Or else you'Il need a hearse. Q P. Webster, Form IV THE SHIP From distant Araby came the ship, Laden with riches and spices for Royalty, Riding on giant waves came the ship, Driven onward by men of great loyalty. The Captain and crew all shared the same dream, As homeward they sailed with their cargo so rare, When from out of the south and on the port beam, Black storm clouds approached as the decks were made bare. With such fury and force the wind did it blow, That the masts were torn down and the sails washed away. The crew met their deaths in the depths down below As the ship disappeared in the mountainous spray. The moral is this: that dreams of great wealth Can bring ruin to men and to widows much sadness, For great riches can hardly compare with good health, And 'tis the simpler ioys often bring greatest gladness. J. Birks, Form V