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SCULPTURING.

Roses die on earnest faces, Lines and pallor take their places. Useful hands are seldom pretty, Honest lips are rarely witty. Ears that hear high mandates ringing, Are but dull to pleasure’s singing. Vigils dun the eye of beauty, Eorms are bent by loads of duty— Can these types, so faulty, seem Worthy of the Sculptor’s dream? Aye, He recognises truly All of hidden worth, and duly Cuts the rough outline away (This the work we deem decay). Lines of strength He carves intently. Then more carefully and gently Final grace He keeps supplying— And we falsely call it dying. Lovingly He views the whole, Naming it The Priceless Soul.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.I whakaputaina aunoatia ēnei kuputuhi tuhinga, e kitea ai pea ētahi hapa i roto. Tirohia te whārangi katoa kia kitea te āhuatanga taketake o te tuhinga.
Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WHIRIB19171218.2.28

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

White Ribbon, Volume 23, Issue 270, 18 December 1917, Page 11

Word count
Tapeke kupu
111

SCULPTURING. White Ribbon, Volume 23, Issue 270, 18 December 1917, Page 11

SCULPTURING. White Ribbon, Volume 23, Issue 270, 18 December 1917, Page 11

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