AD SOROREM
Ah when, my dear, our flag of youth fast furled, We face with silver heads a coming world, Can I forget what you have been to me, Made humble by your royal mockery ! Can I forget your love of halt and lame, The grief that swept you like a naked flame. At sight of some poor toiler's twisted bones, Or blind bird fluttering on the cobblestones. Grand soul that gave, and in the gift forgot ? God punish me if I remember not Your gallant tilt with life and truth apart, But most of all your pitiful clean heart. —E. D.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT19180912.2.82
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Tablet, 12 September 1918, Page 37
Word Count
102AD SOROREM New Zealand Tablet, 12 September 1918, Page 37
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