Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

Page 19 text:

DAW HE GAY twitter of birds outside my bedroom window awakened me. I slipped X quietly out of bed, tiptoed across the room and looked out of my window. Dawn was breaking and I could just make out the grey-green waters of the Channel, the white cliffs, and the golden sands, lapped by the white-crested waves. As I watched the sky, the darkness began to fade and arrows of light shot out from the east, breaking the sky into little fleecy clouds. As it grew lighter, I could see the red sails of a fishing fleet coming in after a night ' s hard toil. The sand became a deep gold and the seaweed on the little children ' s castles glistened. The morning dew on the lawn before my window shone like pearls. The flowers which had closed for the night were beginning to open, and along the winding lane the milkman on his early round was singing. The freshness and beauty of this peaceful scene remained long in my memory. Three years later, I was staying in the same house — not for my summer holidays but because I had been evacuated from my bombed town. Early one morning, I was awakened by a thundering roar. I rushed to my window, pulled aside my blackout cur- tain and looked out. The scene on which I gazed was very different from that which I had seen three years before. No longer were birds singing in the garden; high up in the sky and flying swiftly towards the Continent, was a fleet of dark bombers, flecked by the rising sun. The sun was rising like a red ball shining through a thick fog, which I soon recognized as the smoke from an armada of warships out in the Channel, steaming on some perilous mission. On the sand there were no longer children ' s tunnels and castles, but instead masses of thick, ugly, barbed wire ; where there had been lawns, there were now neat rows of vegetables. The tops of the cliffs were all enclosed, and I could see projecting from barricades the noses of anti-aircraft guns searching for enemy planes. Where I had previously seen the jolly milkman, a dispatch rider was dashing along and a jeep stood at the side of the road. How war had changed even the view from my window ! But as my eyes turned upwards to the sun, it seemed to smile at me and remind me that for countless centuries it had witnessed many such changes — from joy to sorrow, from peace to war — and that soon it would rise again on the kind of world for which we are all longing — a world of peace. Denise Craig, Form VA, Ross House. [17]

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LITERARY TO SPRING Arise, glad Spring, from thy sweet earthen bed! And dream no more of glorious days gone by; Delight and fantasy exist no more, But in dark graves of spite and malice lie. Put on thy robe of perfumed ecstasy. Bring light to brighten hearts with sorrow scarred. And souls, whose one rejoicing lies in thee; Thy joy alone by human hate unmarred. Cast off thy hoary coverlet of snow; Begem our earth with crystal drops of rain; Bring forth thy glowing grace to grief-dimmed eyes. Free from the taint of horror ' s ghostly stain. Gentle Spring, inspire the heart of Man, And let thy fragrant power kill his wrath That thine own bower, home of a joyful peace. Become forever more his rightful path. Ann Taylor, Senior School Certificate, Barclay House.

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CHURCH BFXLS Like a theme of some tiauntitif;; melody, That fades only to liave its memories Linger and repeat themselves over and over In that little corner of a wearied mind, Singing its hopes and reviving the spirit. Lifting the head of one howed for life Under the weight and cares of the world; So to the soul is the ringing of church hells Over the hill, on a clear wintry night. Elizabeth Brow, Form VI, Ross House. PREFECTS (with apologies to Lewis Carroll) Aren ' t you happy, dear Prefect? the young girl said, For we are sublimely gay; We run in the corridor, talk on the stairs. Why don ' t you join us in play? In my youth , the old Prefect replied to the girl, I was just as unruly as you. But now that I ' m old and be-girdled as well, What do you think I can do? You are wise , said the girl with the greatest of awe, And also imposing to see. But why do you ruin yourself in pursuit Of children who shout in their glee? In my youth , said the sage with a frightful grimace, I tried the very same thing. But when you ' re a Prefect and very ' high-hat ' . To the wind all those follies you fling . Do you think it is easy , the young girl said, To rise to such a great height? I ' d lief be a Prefect when I reach the Sixth. What hope if I follow your light? In my youth , said the wise one, with serious face, I invariably aimed at the top. If you ' re good in the Sixth, an example to all. There ' s no telling where you will stop. Denys Clakke, Form VT, Fairley House. [lai