THE GUINEA POEM.

Otago Witness, Issue 2812, 5 February 1908, Page 72

THE GUINEA POEM.

A CHEQUE FOR £1 la has "been sent to,th» writer tit this verse— Miss A. E., Vincent road, Remuera, Auckland: — I used to faau* y»hlte clothes to wear Before «re*t aAFOIva relgm. >~ ff new I soil them 'tis no toll

To wash them- out acoln.

WIN Jl GUINEA! Prize Poem published every Saturday. Best original *otjb shojbtxjhs adrt. verse about " SAPON " wins each -week. SAPON wrapper must be enclosed 1 . Address, "SAPON" [Oatmeal Washing Powder], P.O. Box 635, Wellington. If your Grocer does not stock Sapon, pl«u* *en 4 bis v«m« »a£ scums.

life with courage : it is the Afterwards whicii finds us wanting. : Black sorrow smites and stings us into endurance; white joy lifts us above the power of lesser things. After the crest of one towering wave follows another, but between the might and the glory of their breaking will be the deep trough of the undertow, at which no one looks — it is like the grey of life where we struggle alone unheeded. Sometimes we find ourselves wishing that all life could be clearly marked in black and white — * the way would be so much easier. Right and Wrong, Truth and Falsehood, Honour and Dishonour, clearly, sharply defined without all paltering distinctions drawn by circumstances and theories. Yet if you or yours* come within the grey borderland of " estimating circumstances " which lies between white right and black wrong — what then? How merciful, then, 5s that grey debatable land, . that " Ata-po«" (morning darkness) of the musical Maori tongue — and shall* we deny to others the sanctua^ in which we may ourselves have sheltered? Black is needed, and white is needed; but. the lives in which these sharp contrasts abound • are the lives of tragedy, of event, excitement, endurance, triumph, -renunciation, in which few indeed among us are fitted to "quit ourselves as men." But of one thing we may be sure— that no life is perfect until somewhere in its wondrous pattern is woven, the black thread of sorrow ,or of suffering; no joy is perfect that has not known in its course the pure flame of renunciation which alone renders joy deathless. Highest of all is the artistio sense that can find its purest joy in the austerities of black and white. I like to see a woman taking black and white for the scheme of her needlecraft sometimes, because I, whose love for colour is so passionate and intense, realise that it is' good sometimes to set onrselves to the sharp definitions of black and white and withdraw from the soft delights "of colour, the tempting negations of grey. j