Sandstone Splendour
An Ode to my Alma Mata Grey
Where sandstone dreams in golden breath endure, Grey rises proud, serene, austere, and pure. Its soul — not built of clay or fleeting hour — But carved by time and Baker’s gracious power.
Begin where boys in solemn brotherhood align, In Hamilton Hall, where long oaken tables shine. A syssitia, noble, of bread and laughter filled, Where youth is forged and quiet strength distilled. Steel trays ring out in rhythm and refrain, Echoing footsteps on memory’s lane.
Beside this feast, as if by time mislaid, The Tuckshop stands in corrugated shade. An orphan of the Anglo-Boer war’s past, Yet still she serves, her spirit firm and fast. A Coke and doughnut — more than mere delight — Are treasures bought beneath zinc’s glinting light.
Encircling close, two houses hold their pride, Murray and Brill, with doors flung open wide. Within, the dorms — where stories breathe and rest, Where dreams are dreamed, and boyhood stands its test. Their sandstone bones in silence watch and wait, Steadfast as stars that mark a boy’s own fate.
But O! the heart, the centre, bold and true, The Main School Building rises into view. Herbert Baker’s hand, with chisel deep and wise, Brought forth this matron ‘neath Free State skies. And there — above her arching, storied gate, Stablis proclaims a firm and destined state. She does not waver, this mother in stone, She teaches boys to think, to stand alone.
Then let your ear be led by memory’s call, To the echoing womb of Reunie Hall. Here voices surge, and rafters truly wake, As Guske Malaya makes the timbers quake. The past and present fold in woven song, And all who’ve come still feel they yet belong.
These halls and houses, sandstone-wrought and grand, Hold not just stone, but South Africa’s land. Grey College lives where earth and spirit meet, In every echo, boyish heart, and beat. And through these walls where sunlight softly streams, Walks Herbert’s ghost — among young men and dreams.
~Roald Bartholomew
