BROTHERS
Never the rose of summer Turns to the gold of fall, Never the creeper blushes Red on the old grey wall, Never the light grows fainter, Paler the god of day, But the soul of some unknown brother Somewhere has passed away. Never the snows of winter Change to the buds of spring, Never the ice-flowers melt, And the bluebells sweetly ring, Never the shy wee violet Wakes to a balmy morn. But the soul of some unknown brother Somewhere that hour is born. Bessie 1., lieighton (Christchurch)
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NEM19450901.2.89
Bibliographic details
Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 80, 1 September 1945, Page 8
Word Count
89BROTHERS Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 80, 1 September 1945, Page 8
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