VAGRANT VERSE
THE ORETI ANTHOLOGY. (Written for the Southland Times.) 90.—Three Poems on one Subject. I.—When all our Land. When all our land is old And dead men’s dust Is inches deep on street or field, Then shall we all be bold And hate to ripe or rust And never think to yield. One tittle of our pride, One acre of our grass, One mile of sea-washed shore That trembles to the tide— We shall be men that pass But part of all before. Now we are new and green, Now we are common clay, We are as wind-blown trees That shake with gales And call to-day the day, And know no majesties. What is our lack of tears Or bread or power or ease Or grandeur of the goal ?—* Give us a thousand years And blood-wrought minstrelsies— Then shall we have a soul. —Southerner. Invercargill, July 10.
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Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 20226, 11 July 1927, Page 4
Word Count
148VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 20226, 11 July 1927, Page 4
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