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OUR LIVES.

OUR lives are songs. God writes the words, And we set them to music with pleasure; And the songs grow glad, or sweet, or sad, As we choose to fashion the measure. \Ve must write the music, whatever the sons, Whatever its rhyme or metre; And if it is sad, we can make it glad. Or if sweet, we can make it sweeter. One has a song that is free and strong, But the music he writes is minor: And the sad, sad strain is replete with pain, And the singer becomes a repiner. And he thinks God gave him a dirge-like lay, Nor knows that the words are cheery; And the song seems lonely and solemn—only Because the music is dreary. And the song of another has through the words An undercurrent of sadness; But he sets to it music of ringing chords, And makes it a prsan of gladness. So whether our songs are sad or not. We can give the world more pleasure, And better ourselves, by setting the words To a glad, triumphant measure, Ella wheeler Wilcox.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19010227.2.13

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 11587, 27 February 1901, Page 3

Word Count
183

OUR LIVES. New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 11587, 27 February 1901, Page 3

OUR LIVES. New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 11587, 27 February 1901, Page 3