Poetry.
. . . . What live we for but thin ? Into the sour to breathe the soul of sweet,ne-s, To rear the stuuted growth to fair completeness.— Drowu sneers with smiles, kill hatred with a kiss; And to the sandy wastes bequeath the fame That the gr tss grew- behind us when we came. • # # Work thou for pleasure : paint, or sing, or carve, The thing thou lovest, though the body starve. Who works for glory misses oft the goal j Who works for money coins his very soul. Work for the work’s sake, then, and it may be That these things «*hall be added unto thee. — Selected.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WHIRIB18950901.2.11
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White Ribbon, Volume 1, Issue 3, 1 September 1895, Page 4
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104Poetry. White Ribbon, Volume 1, Issue 3, 1 September 1895, Page 4
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