VAGRANT VERSE
THE ORETI ANTHOLOGY. 472.—Irish Quartette. (Written for the Southland Times.) Here where the South is kind as well as cold, Where the South Pole is lord of many fates, I hear the Celtic tunes, half-hidden, old, They seem to suit the South lands, Mr Yeats! The sea is here but not 'a city great. Like Paris. Dublin; both would ba my choice, You dwell in one, write of the other, state All that you know of Ireland, Mr Joyce! It is so splendid to grow old and wise, Become a prophet, to the end endure The splendid isolation of your prize, Built up from hate to honour,. Mr Moore! To grow beyond one’s fads, a G.0.M., Beyond outspokenness and libel law. Critics indeed, but not one to condemn, Such is your consummation, Mr Shaw! —Southerner. Invercargill, October 30, 1932. Note: W. B. Yeats. James Joyce, GeorWl Moore, George Bernard Shaw. G.QJ4, ie Grand Mam
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Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 21851, 31 October 1932, Page 6
Word Count
156VAGRANT VERSE Southland Times, Issue 21851, 31 October 1932, Page 6
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