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Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria College Wellington, N.Z. Vol. 5, No. 1 March 26, 1942



Et vous avez pas su la lumiere et l'honneur,
D'une amour brave et fort;
Joyeux dans le maheur grave dans le bonheur,
Jeune jusque a la mort.

We also fail to understand Dawson's "Flos Lunae": I would not alter thy cold eyes. What are cold eyes; what are warm eyes; what are wild eyes? These may to some be prim ary conceptions, but I would have to see eyes and have the sensation that they are cold before I can follow this line. I would need to know what expressions are in any eyes. To us eyes are things to look through. There is no culture in eyes, know ledge of slight nuances, refined varieties.' Such eyes as expect affection are distinguished by a commercial twinkle, a stupid uniformed gladness, but not no that we might say "glad eyes," [unclear: because] there is [unclear: no] gladness in the person behind them but banality and the subconscious awareness that there are 1,000,000 spins ters of marriable age in England. If the culture of eyes dies out like that of cobalt glass colouring this poem is going to be incomprehensible, every line of it except one; "Desiring thee, desiring sleep." We under stand this fully. You may sit in your room for days waiting for some intimation of poetic childhood to appear, but you will not succeed: this is a dying culture.