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The Spike: or, Victoria College Review, October 1904
Ode. One the Laying of the Foundation Stone of Victoria College. ..27th August, 1904.
Ode. One the Laying of the Foundation Stone of Victoria College. ..27th August, 1904..
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I
Here in the common clay,
Here in our strait demesne,
Lay we the stone in trust,
Waiting the fuller day:
Gladly for gift and gain
Rift the light from its shroud;
Sow the grain of Desire
Down in the dard of the dust;
Raise for fellow to sun and cloud
Upward-yearn of a climbing spire!
This for our fruited close,
This for our park and pale;
Not where the violet blows
Far from the haste of feet;
Not where the world-voices fail
Challenging throng and speed;
But by the furling sheet,
But by the trailing reek,
By the ride's wash, with its tang on our cheek,
Watch we the City, learn we its creed.
Depth of the depthless skies;
Cloud-chased dapple on hills;
Wealth of the sunsets' dyes;
Health of the wind that fills
Canvas with keenness to reach
Out to the purple meads;
Heights whence we cannot hide
Light front the seekers' needs;—
These for our grace, our right, our pride!
—Seised in fee, and none may impeach.
II
Ring of the charger's snaffle, roar of a cannonade;
Years ago on a Spanish field,
Blind with the stab of a summer sun;
Flash of the hate of the bayonets, breach where the batteries played;
Galloping hoofs when the bugle pealed;
Swinging line, and the silenced gun—
Many a thanks, O Wellington!
Many a thanks for the fight you won,
Years ago on the Spanish field;
Telling us so to play the game
Here on the heights that inherit the name.
III
Be this the Citadel that we shall guard
Inviolate, by service for her fame;
Our thews her honour and our troth her shield
Troth welding grey walls faster than the frame.
Until the finish,—loyal and keen and hard.
For her will the unselfish try be got,
And for her cause the winning goal be shot;
There will be praise and handshake,—warm and real,
And closest union for our common weal.
IV
No more our step will be a trespasser
Beneath the portals of an overlord:
But there will be the greeting and the stir
Of fellowship within our rightful Hall.
There will be wassail at our festal board,
Glad voices, gay Terpsichorean throngs;
And we will make the ringing roof recall
The rousing chorus of our college-songs:
Giving the gold sand of a social hour,
Taking with reverence Knowledge for all dower.
V
We will be of the world and feel its heart
Beat, and our own will beat in sympathy;
But we will keep a little space apart
And sown with rosemary, for our abode
Within the windows opening on the sea.
And if the dust be all about our tread,
And white the glare along the climbing road,
Clear thought will come of how the East was red
With promise, and the lanes with blossom rife,
And fresh the dew upon the lawn of life.
VI
Clear face of Pallas, will thine eyes be kind
Toward thy fane for ever? Let the light
Press of thy sandals, 'neath thy stole white,
Pass, that there may be sweetness as of wind
Among ripe clover, for an open mind
To cull and claim for treasure, charm, and right;
That we may know all purity and might
Of Culture's thrall, in which our days we bind.
Lay to our lips the cup wherein is mixed
The potency of Knowldege, Science, Truth,—
The fair-chased chalice-bowl for which athirst
A many eyes keep vigil, through all ruth,
With gaze for thy pure oval features fixed,—
Deeming thee, Pallas, of Olympus first.
—S.S.M.
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