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Page 66 Wynnum High and Intel-mediate School
Education
The staff of the mind,
The love of the wise,
The unending grind,’
From a fool’s paradise.
If it wants to be blind,
To be without eyes,
It’s but one of the kind
Which delights in life’s lies.
It’s not for the rich,
Except those who’re meek,
And not for the poor,
Except those who seek.
It dwells not in schools,
And not in a chapel,
There are no set rules
To force and compel.
For all who may,
Through strife and through pain,
Do all, that someday
They may greatly attain,
Theirs is the learning;
And the truth in their look
Is not gain’d from a yearning
To learn in a book.
CYRIL MITCHELL,
Form VI.

Spring
Softly from the fragant bushland,
Drifts a sweetly-scented breeze,
As it comes, it seems to call me,
To those blossom-laden trees.
There among the golden wattle,
And the lofty flowering gum.
Bees are gathering in the harvest,
Working swiftly while they hum.
With the winter days now over,
How the birds so sweetly sing !
Small bush creatures play together,
All are glad for it is spring.
EUNICE CLARKE,
Form 1H.