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Note contribution of Robert Gordon Menzies [p. 11]: “”The Blue Upon the Hills.” It was on a hillside that we had halted, and the earth lay before us-a panorama of green fields, and a ribbon of deeper green stretching across it, where ran a river. And, in the distance, the eternal hills, clothed with all their splendour of blue. There was pleasure in all. Was it not Hazlitt who said that on certain lone heaths he could laugh, and run, and leap, and sing for joy? The same spirit was with us, and, though it was not ours to laugh aloud, ours was that cheerful glow at the heart that spells content, and that delicious wonderment which comes of lying upon the green sward and breathing the pure air of the countryside. To the poor tired city dweller, wearied with the fret of life, the country has an appeal unique in its insistency, and so we found it. The earth an ever common sight To us did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and freshness of a dream. And then there was the river! Who shall describe it, with its fringe of giant gums, the sentinels as it were, guarding the mysteries within. For to me a mystery ever clings about a river ; the relic, perchance, of a childish idea that somewhere in the spray of a waterfall dwelt the fairies. And today, as I look upon such a river, I am tempted to ask, Is it not so? This mist, is it not a vast moving phantom? Deep in that water, where lie reflected the everlasting stars, is there not the land of Oberon and his subjects? The mystery of it all takes hold of one, and shuddering he turns, half expecting to see before him a fairy ring, with quaint pigmies dancing round it. Touch, for there is a spirit in the woods! But to me the hills were as a thing apart. A wondrous blue lay for ever upon them. Of mornings, as the sun’s rays topped the horizon, there were the hills, deeply amethyst; and as the day brightened their amethyst turned to blue. Day after day they lay thus, sleeping an eternal sleep. Nothing could surpass their magnificence. Silent, unchangeable, their indescribable blue left the soul charged with inarticulate emotion. Even so must Bunyan have caught the vision of his Delectable Mountains, with all their far-flung majesty. And so, methinks, it must ever be. We bask upon the plains of life ; we catch an occasional glimpse of its mysteries ; and at times its awe leaves us trembling as a frightened bird. But, when blackest days shall come upon me, and I am like to be swallowed up in the storm and reverberation and struggles of the world it is my fancy that for a moment the clouds will break, and after I shall see blue upon the hills, as I saw it then, and Hope shall return to me – R.G.M.” Also poem by Robert Gordon Menzies [p. 14] “March”: “As some lone minstrel, who, reluctantly, Passing from grief to joy, turns not away From those sad tunes which formed his doleful lay, But lingers with a broken melody, Ere yet his words may pour forth joyously – So is this month of March a month not gay, And yet not mournful, for the quivering day of drought is o’er, but winter’s yet to be. But cloud-flecked skies are here, and mutterings Of the storm time to come; some showers to tell; Of the great winter rains; with winds that beat To herald in the time when mighty wings of tempest sweep the earth, and say farewell To all the sadness of the summer heat.”; and [p. 22] “The Soul of Hope” A Reform Song; “Out from the murk of the time that surrounds us, Out from the dull, carking cares of to-day, Into the future with distant hopes gleaming, Glimpses of dreamland shall show us the way. What though the world may laugh, pointing and jeering, What though mankind may smile wisely and long; We, with the thought that is burning within us, Boldly will onward, our pathway a song! Let the poor fools who delude them with folly, Say that our cry is but lost in the air, Let them assert, with their smug self-complacence, Failure alone waits the men who will dare! There is behind us a spirit that prompts us, There is what tells us that dawn is ahead;
Time shall approve what we pace the lone path for, Spaces to come shall resound to our tread! So we march ever, our gaze still before us, Catching a glimpse of the stars, it may be; Dreaming the dream of a world that is better, Seeing the vision of men that are free, Yearning to find the great day of our triumph, Lit with the glory of reaching our goal! This is the prayer, and the life, and the hope of us, This is our blazing, unquenchable Soul! – R. G. M.”