And there she busied is, alone,
To make of beauty beauties fresh,
Or, seated queenly on her throne,
Weaves fate into a glittering mesh.
For every soul she gazes through
And sees its deepest-hid desires,
As though we were but drops of dew,
Transparent, lit by alien fires.
This one she chooses; it is clear
And burns with an intenser flame;
But that, for a long age’s year,
Leaves to the darkness whence it came.
While time itself grows weary, she
Still solitary sits to weave,
Until that last eternity
When all are taken, none to leave.
Then in her magic tissue hapt,
The new-clothed, fragrant earth shall run
In visionary radiance wrapped,
A dazzling sister to the sun,
And so Our Lady’s work be done.
E. F. A. GEACH
(HOME STUDENT)
ROMANCE
“J’étais comme un autre Jason allant à la conquête de la toison d’or.”
(Mademoiselle de Maupin).
ROUND the next corner and in the next street
Adventure lies in wait for you.
Oh, who can tell what you may meet
Round the next corner and in the next street!
Could life be anything but sweet
When all is hazardous and new
Round the next corner and in the next street?
Adventure lies in wait for you.