St Michael’s ON COLLINS - MELBOURNE
The St Michael’s Suite Written for St Michael’s by the eminent writer Christopher Wallace-Crabbe The St Michael’s Suite is a testament to the importance of St Michael’s to the community of Melbourne and beyond. Portions of the poem can be see engraved on brass plaques within the Mingary and St Michael’s Gardens.
Smooth seagulls swirl around the tower As though their body language had Something implicitly to say About the give-and-take between A sense of liberty and faith. Open to being read like this, Gulls arabesque around the tower. Far off in Iceland Wise Hall of the Side Asked neighbour Thangbrand Why he was singing. “I keep mass today For archangel Michael,” Came his grave reply Across the green turf. “What follows that angel?” Hall then inquired. “Much good. He will weigh up All of your deeds And if you are pleasing him All of your virtues Will weigh greatly more, Through his and God’s help.” “I’ll make myself over,” Said Hall of the Side, “If Michael will then be My guardian angel.” And so he did then And so Michael was, While baptized faith Flowed on into Iceland 120 Collins St Melbourne 3000
I never knew quite what To make of the building So bricky and grand At the Paris end Of our Collins Street. It was neither this Nor exactly that, But I didn’t know what.
This had no particular Meaning for your lofty church, But lodges in a corner of my mind. Mingary, in a truly ancient way Draws you into the quiet association Of water’s perpetual mobility With stable stone.
It wasn’t of bluestone Nor stuccoed in white, Nor was it a Georgian Home of religion.
Haled back from the city’s turbulence, You come into seclusion of a cavern Or hermit’s chapel, ready to brood on things As old as rock
Its arches looked almost Yet not quite Italian But its tower stood grand With an air of command.
Some kind of church in 1841 Stood here. It has true grandeur now, Yet underneath its eloquence we find Mingary’s water and stone.
Against the blue welkin Or glowing in the dark It completes the mixed medley Of easterly kirks.
Prayer’s Cave or Haven
Coincidence or irony? The very month when Italy won The World Cup final, somewhere else, St Michael's was all dressed up In that very shade of blue The triumphant Azzurri wore that day.
In brick and stone and glass The structure of St Michael’s stands Above a streaming Collins Street In brown, with ochre bands. Trusting the architecture may Convey an abstract thought, The gables and the tower reach up Implying something sought,
Something believed in, something true: In a modern city, you could say A meaning for the sky. Everything somehow interacts And all around that yearning tower With something new, or somewhere Seagulls and pigeons fly. else. Chris Wallace-Crabbe
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