VAGRANT VERSE
THE ORETI ANTHOLOGY. 452.—0ur World. (Written for the Southland Times.) Only on paper, alone on paper, Has man achieved whatever he would, (And like God creating the universe), Only on paper he felt it was good. So the written letter carries its magic And the printed page its world of light, For there are love and honour and glory, And kings and queens in their robes bedight. And there is no sad decrepitude, No irksome travel, no broken breath, Nor do winds of Time blow coldly, strongly, Where even to die is never death. So here is the cry for folded paper, And here is the call for printer’s ink, Letter and book and graven tablet, They are quintessence of what men think. They are the dreams of a new tomorrow With something sound at its hidden core, As out of the idle Garden of Eden Adam and Eve walk forth once more. They carry no weight for Hope is . lightness, Wherever they turn the sun will show That this is a place of golden brightness, And into the splendid world they go. —Southerner. Invercargill, May 30. 1932.
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Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 21715, 30 May 1932, Page 6
Word Count
190VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 21715, 30 May 1932, Page 6
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