SCHOOL SONG
The quite river bears its load, from busy mart to mart below the hills,
then slowly to the far grey seas, it bears its tribute, it bears its tribute, of a thousand rills.
The Saxons bridge it o,er with oak, beside the shallow immamorial ford,
Then spanned anew with well hewn stone, it bore the throng of peasant, monk and Lord,
Last arching steel replaced the stone, and learning reared her walls beside the Trent,
where days of eager youth we passed,before us life with every chance unspent.
As time rolls on we leave her walls, the call of commerce and of art,the call of land a