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The Spike: or, Victoria College Review 1912

Written from Oxford

Written from Oxford.

I move 'midst men' whose name the world will know—
In sure course towards the zenith rise the stars—
I talk with men o'er whom is cast a glow
From fathers wreathed in fame by fire or Mars;
But all my thoughts are with my friend, at ease,
Starless, but mighty thewed, across the seas.

The books I read were oft in poets' hands.
The hands long dead, the poets living still,
Rich garners these, the wealth of countless lands
Of crumbled ages, brought to me at will.
Ah! give me prattle of an untaught child,
Speak he of home, of hills, of bush-tracks wild.

Here cloven towers rise massive to the sky.
Yon porch with antique ivy overgrown,
The very windows have a reverend eye,
And grey beards hang respect to every stone.
Maiden Victoria is more fair to me
Where unadorned she stands above the sea.