Dora Wilcox
1873 - 1953 NZ / AU
The Test
Art is immortal; beauty never dies,
Lurking in secret places wild and coy;
But what man made man may again destroy
In a little moment. Now that pleasure flies
And the house of pride we built in ashes lies,
And all the pageantry and all the joy
Of wealth and leisure are but as a toy
Stamped underfoot and broken before our eyes -
Then wakes the soul of England vigorous still,
Rising above the ruin on sure wings,
And by her gifts we know her; fortitude,
The courage that is cheerful and the will
To high adventure; and those lovelier things,
Sacrifice and a quickened brotherhood.
1873 - 1953 NZ / AU
The Test
Art is immortal; beauty never dies,
Lurking in secret places wild and coy;
But what man made man may again destroy
In a little moment. Now that pleasure flies
And the house of pride we built in ashes lies,
And all the pageantry and all the joy
Of wealth and leisure are but as a toy
Stamped underfoot and broken before our eyes -
Then wakes the soul of England vigorous still,
Rising above the ruin on sure wings,
And by her gifts we know her; fortitude,
The courage that is cheerful and the will
To high adventure; and those lovelier things,
Sacrifice and a quickened brotherhood.