Near this spot ageless Time sees lines of males, dressed in black clothes, converging on a building that holds a great Wheel on high. Are they also a soft sift, mined with a motion, crowding to the fall: as Gerard Manley Hopkins writes? When Time turns the wheel, men are lowered into the earth and later black rock emerges. Fires are later lit with the rock. Youths are initiated into the rituals of the mines.
Near this spot Time sees gatherings in large rectangular buildings of men and women and children. They sing. They listen to one raised high above them. At times they kneel and bow their heads.
Near this spot Time sees mown fields of grown men striving each against the other to carry a leather ball against all opposition. At times there are many onlookers. At others none.
Can we learn anything of the meaning of our School from these other gatherings? Is there anything in the hearts of all these people, that runs through all the scenes, an invisible thread that connects and binds? They are the forefathers of the boys we now see gathered. Perhaps there are deep roots that they share.
