SPECTATOR COMPETITION No. 78

Report by Ronald Lambton A Trize of f5 was offered for a State poem on the Festival of Britain by one of the former Laureates, Dryden, Wordsworth or Tennyson.

A vigorous and inspiring response. Their representation equally divided, the three eminent dead rose to the occasion in firm familiar 'voice and fertile variety ; though on the whole, naturally enough, Tennyson tended to dwell sonorously on science and progress, Dryden to point up the social scene, and Wordsworth to remain in measured meditation upon a London bridge. But it was a pity that these poets, while so neat in their,Nirtuosity, so often neglected to look to their laurels and wrote in their private rather than their official Stately capacity, producing excellent verse that was facetious, deprecatory or downright cantankerous—a gaffe that could not be forgiven. Allan M. Laing, A. M. Sayers, C. J. Richards, N.C.S., and Myddleton Haslam were distinguished among the deviationists from the necessary Laureate line. Guy Kendall, too, who was admirably Wordsworthy:

" I leave to others the ambitious thought Of all that Science does or shall achieve, Such as this aery needle, this consent Of force and gravity, and the mounting tale Of Man's material triumphs here set forth . . ."

but alas he left to others the State poem that was asked for.

First prize of two pounds ten goes without hesitation to W. Bernard Wake for a faultlessly monumental Wordsworth ; second and third prizes of thirty shillings and a pound respectively to Walter Percival (despite a doubtful eighth line) and Eric Swainson for the best sustained Dryden and Tennyson entries. Behind the winners in a close finish were the Wordsworths of G. H. Driver, G. J. Blundell, Patrick Welch ; the Tennysons of N. Hodgson, J. A. Harrison and Elsie Paterson ; and the Drydens of Douglas Rawson, H. F. Hunt, H. A. C. Evans, D. L. L. Clarke and J. A. J. A promising early 'Dryden, too, has been discovered in fourteen- rear-old M. A. Webster. FIRST PRIZE

(W. BERNARD WAKE)

How bravely toes the heart of Britain beat, How firm the footing of her ancient pride, But one brief decade from the dreadful tide Of war's calamities, when dire defeat Seemed certain in the face of fearful odds, And. Britain, sore beset, with head unbowed Fought on nor yielded aught, but grimly proud Denied the trjumph of the evil gods.

Though still the scars of battle stay unhealed, We here, in token of eternal truth, Proclaim a festival, renew our youth And in the arts of peace now take the field.

See where the banners wave—the flag's unfurled, And Britain to the South Bank calls the world.

SECOND PRIZE

(WALTER PERCIVAL)

South Bank's sad ruins are remov'd from sight And Dome and Skylon rise for our delight ; While dreams in steel and concrete now restore The nation's pride to heights scarce reach'd before. Loud shouts the people's happiness proclaim ; E'en'pleasure gardens spread Britannia's fame. Art joins with Scienie ; a Pavilion shows How British freedom round the whole world goes, And citizens approve with thankful' nod " Beneath one Cross a hundred ways to God." In every province Festival holds sway And towns and cities keep high holiday. 'Mid feasts and pageants rustic sporis are seen With choirs and dancing on the village green. And foreign guests, beneath our flag unfurl'd, Admire this nation, Wonder of the World.

THIRD PRIZE

(ERIC SWAINSON)

Noble edifice of wonder! Lofty pinnacle of grace! Rugged monumental figkires glorify our Island Race!

Modern miracles of Transport cull the curious multitude; Tekcinematic visions 'maze the courtly and the rude.

In a cool and bright pavilion unicorns and lions dwell, • Sanctified by doves of .peace. But whither winging ? None can telL

Huskies yelp in Arctic fury 'neath the shelter of the Dome, And a rightful space is granted to the Garden and the Home.

Down the river swiftly„steaming, thousands throng, on pleasure bent, To the gaily festive Gardens, roundabouts and merriment ;

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Wrapt in pyrotechnic splendours, tower, grotto and cascade Sate the passions of the youthful, stir the senses of the staid: .

E'en the jilted or neglected, those whom Love or Fate would mock, Pause to gaze in pensive thralldom at the antics of the Clock.

Maid and Man may dance for sixpence ; innocence surrounds each pair ; Courtship wanders in the treetops ; Marriage blossoms at the Fair.'