The Huia's homeland, and other verses
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"./' . . ..y'<'''.,^.^y/iyy^^'iij{i^''yy}y'.i>yf .' ;< , ly",, ,y: !lr:yyy-y,y,;yyx;yi,::.y^-., :. v,yy}y-;."i, ■ Cornell University Library PR 5236.R8H8 The Huia's homeland, and other verses, 3 1924 013 541 069 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 3541 069 THE HUIA'S HOMELAND, AND OTHER VERSES. THE HUIA'S HOMELAND, AND OTHER VERSES. BY RO SL YN,-^t?<W5^.j LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.G. 1897. CONTENTS. NEW ZEALAND POEMS. PAGE introduction i new zealand 2 the waitemata ■ 4 pohutukawa - j the huia feather - ' - j bush ballad 9 the big kauri, waiotahi creek ii our pearl o' the sea i3 the waihou 17 the mistletoe 18 bells of yule 1 9 austral christmas 22 nor'-east 24 thames, new zealand 25 good-bye, coromandel ! - 26 christmas chimes - 27 woodland wanderings 29 TO HfiLfeNE - 31 THE RATA 32 THE GOWAN'S MISSION 33 ON THE WHARF 36 ORANGE BLOSSOMS 38 BRIDE BELLS- - 39 A CHRISTMAS COLLOQUY 4O THE WRECK OF THE 'WAIRARAPA' 42 EMILIE'S STORY OF THE WRECK OF THE 'WAIRARAPA' 44 vi Contents PAGE HINAKI, THE LAST OF THE NGATIPOA - 48 HAURAKI, THE NGAPHUI - 54 THE LEGEND OF HINEMOA - 62 TE AROHA yo THE THAMES, NEW ZEALAND, AND THE TRAVELLER 72 THE CLEMATIS THE miner's LETTER YELLOW KOWHAI RED KOWHAI 74 - 75 78 79 MANUKA - go zealandia - 81 allan, the bugler of the fifty-eighth 82 god's acre by the sea 84 to a scotch thistle 86 glossary 87 NARRATIVE POEMS. BENEATH THE PINES THE TEST DEMOSTHENES A LEGEND 91 93 93 95 dona ROSARIO g6 viola g8 EIGHTEENTH OF JUNE, iSiS lOQ REFLECTIVE POEMS. FRIENDSHIP - MIDNIGHT MUSING 105 107 'THINE OWN FRIEND' I08 109 "3 114 REMINISCENCE COMPARISON - SELF-COMMUNING DREAMING - - - . ] [g REST - - - . 117 'GOOD-NIGHT' - - H8 VISIONS OF CHILDHOOD - . 120 SHADOWS - - . 121 Contents vii SENTIMENTAL POEMS. DRIFTING CLOUDS PAGE 'all's for the best' 122 WOULD YOU? TRIFLES SYMPATHY - THE NIGHT-WATCHES t26 RESPONSIVE - DESOLATING WAR 124 124 I2S 127 129 •33 AUREOLA - 136 FATED - 137 RIRO-RIRO I3g MIGNON 139 THE UNFORGOTTEN • I40 SUMMER - . 141 THE sailor's tryst I43 PLIGHTED, YET PARTED I45 ' IS IT A DREAM ?' I47 ANNIE'S BIRTHDAY - I48 FAIRIES AND FLOWERS - IJO FOR somebody's BIRTHDAY- 152 YOU AND I - 153 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. BURIED AT SEA - 157 THE BLIND MAN'S DEFINITION OF FRIENDSHIP - 158 THE emigrant's RETROSPECT IS9 THE captain's STORY - 16I THE ROSE PETAL - 163 THE barge BIER 166 HOPE - r68 moonrise - 169 annual memories - i70 pray one for another - 1 72 viii Contents THE INNER LIFE MYSTIC MESSENGERS COMMONPLACES ABSENT COMMON-SENSE AND TRUE LOVE TRUE BLUE PAGE flora's spell '74 176 177 178 THE TWO CITIES '79 i8i 182 TO A 184 SACRED POEMS. ' COME YE APART ' 187 BENEDICITE - ■ 188 THE HEAVENLY VISION 189 CONSECRATION HYMNS I90 THE JOY OF THE LORD I94 ' HELP, LORD !' 196 THE EUCHARIST 197 GETHSEMANE I98 ASPIRATIONS - 199 THE teacher's GREETING 200 BETHEL - 201 HER DYING PRAYER - 202 THE UPHILL PATH 203 ECHOES OF PATMOS - 205 'PASSETH away' 207 GOD IS LOVE - 209 BEYOND 211 IN HEAVEN - 211 NEW ZEALAND POEMS. INTRODUCTION. Oh, my Colonial Rhymelets ! Is there waiting for you and me A hail-fellow-well-met greeting From fine folk far over the sea ? Will they draw closer around them Their purple in Britain the Free, Hoarding their praise for their home-born, These fine folk far over the sea ? Upraising proud, pencilled eyebrows Amazedly, ' Can this thing be Colony-born, and a Poet ?' Cry fine folk far over the sea. Will they ignore our appearance, That we from their presence may flee Like a subdued Cinderella, These fine folk from over the sea ? Will there be never a kind word From those at the top of the tree, And never a ' Come up higher,' From fine folk far over the sea ? I New Zealand Still, cheerily oh, my Rhymelets, Go hoping for sweet courtesie. Whispering of brighter Britain To fine folk far over the sea. Earnest of life in the South-East (Like the kelp that came floating free Towards those tall Castilian vessels) To fine folk far over the sea. NEW ZEALAND. PAST. Flax, fern, and Nikau rustled in the breeze That far the bell-bird's liquid music bore Through golden-fruited, tall Karaka-trees, While blue waves murmured gently on the shore ; And mating with the mighty solitude The strange, gigantic moa stalked serene ; When entered on this ocean Eden green A tribe of stalwart natives, semi-nude, In frail canoes had crossed th' unsounded deep ; But here their paddles left the flashing foam : By turns they idly loll, fish, weave, and sleep, Or on th' ensanguined war-path roam. Idols grotesque adore, the wild, weird Haka tread, The supernatural and direful Tapu dread. PRESENT. Anon there landed on this lovely isle Strong-sinewed Commerce and the Gospel fair, New Zealand 3 Sublimely consecrate by holy prayer. The fertile hills and valleys sweetly smile, Majestic cities crown the heights with speed, While gallant ships in goodly hai-bours lie. Unnumbered flocks roam o'er the verdant mead, And church-spires point to heaven, calm and high. Two races mingle in the busy mart j Two tongues are spoken by the sounding sea ; Two children share alike Zealandia's knee : Maori and Saxon nestle to her heart. From gnome-like haunts are borne earth's treasures rich and dear j Bravely beneath the British flag glides year by year. FUTURE. Dear isle ! surrounded by unfathomable depths of blue. Kept verdant by a thousand sparkling streams ; So may the social bounds be girded by the true, So irrigated by love's purest gleams, And what a glorious future shall be thine. Long as the Starry Cross shines on thy sea-girt strand, Till on the page of Time thy history grand, Inscribed in golden characters, shall shine ! Rich in thine own resources, rich in friends. Peace in thy valleys, plenty on thy shore. Thy children seeking light and knowledge evermore ; Like dew the heavenly benison descends. Jewelled thy crown, and sceptre fair and free. Queen of the South Pacific, hail to thee ! 4 The Waitemata THE WAITEMATA. Oft in fancy, oft in dreamland, I am gliding down the current Of our own broad Waitemata To the blue and boundless sea ; But the thought of severance tightens more The chords of love that bind me To the harbour of my native place And home of infancy. With a lover's fond devotion I have pledged myself to hold thee Ever first and ever dearest of all tides that ebb and flow. Waitemata ! Sparkling Water ! who could look upon thy beauty And grudge thee tribute, e'en apart from charms of long ago ? Miles removed, I seem to see thee in the early summer morning. With a thousand thousand mimic suns aglow in every wave; With each wellrknown bay and headland lying pic- turesquely round thee. Where the white Manuka used to bloom and Toi-toi wave. From the Watchman, tiny islet, like a sentinel in mid- stream, Just abreast the caves that honeycomb the cliffs on Shelly Beach, The Waitemata 5 Where the old Pohutukawa spread their bright December blossoms All so safely, tantalizingly, away above our reach. Down to Birkenhead and Northcote, and the heights round Takapuna ; Round the north shore with the FlagstaflF Hill, the guns on the North Head; Till across the dark blue channel rises dear old Rangi- toto, Though the sky no longer o'er its crest portentously grows red. Waitemata, I must hold thee ever first and ever dearest Of all rivers that flow east or west beneath New Zealand skies ; For upon thy dark blue waters, half in terror, half in pleasure, I remember, I remember how I looked with baby eyes. POHUTUKAWA. 'Tis not the holly red I sing 'Neath Albion's snowy skies ; Nor yet the rose that blushes sweet For lustrous Persian eyes ; Nor yet the stately palm that waves O'er Asiatic dome : But the dear old native Christmas flower Of my New Zealand home. Pohutukawa O'er-arched with blue in golden days On many a cliff and bight, With gnarled branches far outspread, Bedecked with tassels bright. I love thee well, I love thee well, Pohutukawa-tree ; From infancy a subtle spell Thy blossom cast o'er me. Is it because I love the sea ? — The sea thou lovest so, Oft bending o'er until the depths Reflect thy crimson glow ; Or mad and merry little waves Veil thee with silver spray, Dancing in gayest elfin sport On some fair Christmas Day ? If thou hadst bloomed on classic soil Where Sappho stirred the soul ; Or by the lone, wild Orcades Where Ossian's echoes roll ; Or even in the good old land When Royal Alfred sang, And baron's hall and lady's bower With merry music rang, Thy fame had reached to other shores. And men had talked of thee, Our own Pohutukawa Beside the summer sea. Pohutukawa For worthy art thou meed of praise As myrtle-tree or lime, As olive-tree or sandalwood Of cloudless Orient clime. But far amid the ocean wide, And far adown the days, Where shall we find the voice, the harp. To sound abroad thy praise ? And yet right well we love to see Thy plumy, rich array, O tree of sunny mem'ries And Southern Christmas Day ! The green Karaka's golden fruit Is ripening in the sun ; Red Rata wreathes the Kauri Where creeks in shadow run. The white clematis long ago Hath lost her starry flowers ; Pohutukawa's crimson plumes Must deck our Christmas bowers. THE HUIA* FEATHER. Leave the eagle to its eyrie In the skyey heights afar ; Let the condor soar unnoticed O'er the swiftly-flying car. * Hoo-e-a. The Huia Feather Leave the gannet on the rough rock Of the Orkney Skerries free, While the Huia in homeland Claims a glance from thee and me. Hark ! the thunderous ocean billows, Ceaseless surging night and day Round the lonely little island, Now in wrath, and then in play, Are the keepers of the garden Where this bird was wont to fly, In the Huia's own homeland, Through the halcyon days gone by. Sacred feather to the Maori, Tapu to the chieftain's wear, Never dowager more haughty With the ostrich-plumfed hair. In the palaces of England, Than this child of nature rude. Dwelling in a Raupo Whare, Near the stately Kauri wood. The Huia feather equals (In their unenlightened eyes) The strawberry leaves that glisten In the courts of Guelph or Guise. Pride of birth as overweening As in Don of haughty Spain Swells beneath the tattooed bosoms Of these children of the Main. Bush Ballad Theirs not the eagle's eyrie lone In its rocky heights afar ; Theirs not the condor soaring up O'er the swiftly-flying car; But theirs the graceful Huia, For ages long unknown To the wide world, like its homeland Down in the temperate zone. BUSH BALLAD. Away in the dim New Zealand Bush, Where the Korimako sings, We rode, where the feathery Pungas spread And the graceful Rimu springs ; With hills to the east, and hills to the west. In billowing verdure clad, While the hidden force of the watercourse Was seen in the lush growth glad. We rode by a valley of Nikaus, all Majestic, slender, and high, Crowned with their pendulous fronds, and tall As palms 'neath an Asian sky. With scarlet berries instead of dates. In the tender light serene, A vision of grace was that Nikau vale. Fit home for the fairy queen. We rode by a valley of Pungas all. And watched as the wandering breeze 10 Bush Ballad Whispered the stately and played with the small, Like a conqueror bland at ease. And down through the hush of the lonely Bush, Heard over the Kowhai float. Abruptly sweet as a silver bell. The Tui's repeated note. Still gaily we rode right gaily on 'Neath the overarching shade ; Over the giant roots so brown, Over the creeks, and up and down, Till we reached the Kauri glade. But there we were fain to draw the rein, And, lingering, gaze with pride On each massive form which had braved the storm In brotherhood side by side. Aurora's car ye may follow afar Without seeing sight so grand. Without feeling the spell of that far-away dell Where the kingly Kauris stand. Oh, grimly gray on the sunniest day They rear their sun-seeking height, At the top to allow in each wide-spreading bough Close leafage to catch the light. Through the summer's cheer, through winter drear, The winds and the zephyrs roam Down the grave pillared aisle, while the pale moon- beam's smile Illumines the fretted dome. The Big Kauri ii For like carven stone, through the long years grown, Symmetric and noble stands. With glory and power in each turret and tower, This temple not made by hands. Ye may wander or rest from east to west, From north to south ye may go, Without feeling the spell of that lone charmed dell Where the kingly Kauris grow. THE BIG KAURI, WAIOTAHI CREEK. Dear poet, who sang of the forest primeval, Leaving the gay world, I'd wander with thee — Ay, wander afar, where no castle medieval Rears its gray turrets on crags by the sea. Seeking the shade of the great Kauri-tree. Enshrined in a temple of Nature's own making, Reared in its silence, impressive, profound. When axes, the echoes of Lebanon waking. Felled her proud cedars in scores to the ground, Thy leaves were unstirred by a treacherous sound. When Gothic wolves ravaged the banks of old Tiber, When Druids' dread holocaust smirched Britain's sky. When the halter of Judas was growing green fibre, When zealous Crusaders to Achoe drew ntgh. Undreamt of, remote, passed thy lone infancy. 13 The Big Kauri When once-favoured Raleigh in prison lay pining, When Plymouth folk wept as the stanch Mayflower sailed, When fires of rebellion from Versailles were shining, When vengeance the grim, frowning Bastille assailed, Earth-fed and sun-strengthened, thy stature prevailed. When Liberty, outraged, in anger and sorrow. Blew her loud reveille o'er Florida's flowers, Each day was as calm as its placid to-morrow, Gliding white-souled through these virginal bowers : In soundless procession past thee trooped the hours. O glory of nature ! O relic of ages ! Firm as the granite thou seemest to be. Still harmlessly round thee the tempest oft rages ; Long may the fire-fiend be warded from thee. Long may the life-sap still rise in our tree ! Old England may boast of her oak-trees that flourish On woodland and lea, and exult in their fame ; California's bayou and canon may nourish Proud Wellingtonia's unrivalled claim — Towards thee Thames hearts will beat ever the same. Hist ! hark ! from thy top growth that melody falling, Dulcet, staccato, scarce heard, ere 'tis done — The shy Korimako its shyer mate calling With bell note to vespers at setting of sun. Ere Kiwi and Morepork cries have begun. Our Pearl o' the Sea 13 Dear poet, who sang of the forest primeval, Oh, had thy mantle but fallen on me — Even though I dwell where no castle medieval Rears its gray turrets on crags by the sea — Fame, like the Rata, had wreathed our grand tree. OUR PEARL O' THE SEA. Speak no more of Northern Christmas, With its ice and fleecy snow. Glowing log, and holly berries Wreathed with waxen mistletoe, Like a dream all unregretted. Let the wintry pleasures go. Don the lightest, daintiest raiment Ere the sun has mounted high. Come and stand beside the river. Hear it murmuring softly by ; Through the trees bent greenly o'er it. Summer zephyrs sweetly sigh. Mark the distant purple mountain Clearly outlined 'gainst the blue ; Hark the lark's ecstatic matin, And the woodland warbler's too. From the bush where Rata blossoms Richly crimson meet the view. 14 Our Pearl o' the Sea Bring incense, feed the sacred flame of patriotic fire — The mana of the Southern Cross might tune a Delphic lyre. Now let the hardy Switzer sing Maggiore or Lucerne, And let the loyal Tyrolese toward his mountain turn ; With equal right we too shall point toward Earnslaw's silent snows, Or where her stately wardens guard Te Anau's calm repose. Now let the dusky Cingalese his odorous island chant. And let high Quito's colonist his altitude still vaunt ; Blame, an you will, our honest pride in woods more safe, as fair, Or in the ozone richness of our ocean-gathered air. Now let the nor'lander lay claim to myth of gnome and troll ; Let English Will in honeyed words depict Titania's role. We have a fund of mystic lore as ever Yuletide knew, Of Riri, and of Taniwha in woods and waters blue. And let the scornful sceptic rove throughout our con- fined bound. From north to south, from east to west, the coward be not found Who fails to fight for such a land in any hour of need. While glory holds the laurel wreath, to crown each valorous deed. Our Pearl o' the Sea 15 Let Britain boast the virile force of Norman, Saxon, Dane, To her good stock in this fair land we add another strain ; No Hereward more bravely stood, no William harder pressed, Than Heke, Rauparaha, with their Maori vim and zest. Bring incense, feed the sacred flame of patriotic fire — The mana of the Southern Cross might tune a Delphic lyre. Our native or adopted isle, fair Pearl o' the Sea, Let north and south, and east and west, in fullest har- mony. Each voice a tender greeting that shall bind like golden chains Thy lonely shore to lands unseen while Christmas glad- ness reigns. (There comes in answer on the wind, in fullest harmony. This fourfold Christmas greeting from our Pearl o' the Sea.) NORTH. From the banks of the Waitemata, with Pohutukawa bright. To the loved, the unforgotten, in the old home out of sight, Comes this softly-whispered message from the wanderer far away, "' Angels guard them, God be with them and bless their Christmas Day.' i6 Our Pearl o' the Sea SOUTH. ' To Taua Ata (We meet in the morning) The word of the Maori on eve of the fray : I send to my loved ones a colonist's greeting, In fond recollection of old Christmas Day.' EAST. While the home of the Rimu, the isle of the Kiwi, Soft cradle of Toi, of flax and of fern ; Still men who have sought her look over the water. Their hearts to the motherland wistfully yearn, But not for the white snow, the red-berried holly, The blazing Yule log, and the wax mistletoe — For the far-away faces, the greeting so jolly, 'A Merry Bright Christmas,' of long, long ago. WEST. ' Oh, friends so dear ! If, in reply to Haremai (Come here), Ye couM appear, Our instant cry would be, Kapai ('tis good) Tenakoe, ki te korero, Our Christmas and New Year.' Thus, thus she binds her lonely shores by bright and golden chains, At gleeful Yule, to far-ofif Thule ^nd neighbouring Austral plains. To rare, chill reach of Pamir, to low, warm Zuyder Zee, Goes forth this fourfold greeting of perfect harmony, This tribute from the ocean gem, our Pearl o' the Sea The Waihou 17 THE WAIHOU. Peacefully, tranquilly, on to the sea — Flow, river, flow ; Music, thy soft dreamy murmur shall be — Flow, river, flow. Once on thy green banks I stood not alone ; Once here I listened to friendship's sweet tone ; Pleasure and sorrow since then I have known — Flow, river, flow. Time, like thy current, rolls ceaselessly on — Flow, river, flow; Mournful or happy, the days soon are gone — Flow, river, flow. Sometimes how radiant is Life's azure sky, Sometimes across it how sullen clouds fly! Onward, like thee, through all change we must hie- Flow, river, flow. On to thy rest in the ocean of blue — Flow, river, flow; Gliding so swiftly away beyond view — Flow, river, flow. Will every ripple keep sparkling and bright. Glancing and flashing in golden sunlight ? Nay, for soon cometh the shadowing night — Flow, river, flow. 2 l8 The Mistletoe Sages find lessons of wisdom in thee — Flow, river, flow ; Memories fond have endeared thee to me — Flow, river, flow. There by thy side the dim twilight I'd spend ; Well with my musing thy rhythm doth blend ; Onward and nearer thou'lt be to my friend- Flow, river, flow. THE MISTLETOE. Oh, ho ! ho ! full well we know England's waxen mistletoe ! Saucy smiles and laughter clear, Christmas gladness, Christmas cheer, Come and go full well we know. Wreathed with waxen mistletoe. Thou art red, and thou dost grow, Our New Zealand mistletoe. Where was never Druid hoar. Far from merry England's shore ; And yet, lo, we love thee so, Crimson, coral mistletoe ! High and low for thee we go. Our New Zealand mistletoe. Through the virgin forest's gloom. Past the ruddy Rata bloom. Where no foot passed long ago. Seeking thee, red mistletoe. Bells of Yule ig Oh, ho ! ho ! thy leaflets show Hearts, my bonnie mistletoe ; North or south, destined to be Plant of love's sweet mystery. Blushes ! blushes ! Ah, these show Mem'ries of the mistletoe. BELLS OF YULE. A REVERIE. We hear not now from the belfry tower Those welcome sounds of long ago ; And we gaze not now in the twilight hour From our casements over the snow. Yet 'tis the time When the bells should chime Christmas ! glad Christmas ! in every clime. Far from the north and its pure, cold whiteness. Here in the radiant summer gay. All in the season of glowing brightness, Dawneth upon us Christmas Day. Flowers shed balm On the air so calm, Scarce stirring the fronds of the tall fern palm. Down on the shore we love to wander. Watching the blue waves come and go — 20 Bells of Yule Alone, by the sounding sea, to ponder Over the days of long ago, When life's aim was play, And we used to say : ' The pond will be frozen by Christmas Day.' And we hail again a vision beaming Of youthful faces, dancing eyes, Ringlets, nutbrown, or golden gleaming, All from the vanished past arise, And the greeting sweet. That was only meet To render for us Christmas joy complete. Our dreams were all of a future golden. Painted with never a shadow gray. When around the fire in the manor olden Story and song closed Christmas Day. And we see them all As the snowflakes fall 'Gainst the window-pane, o'er the elm-trees tall. How our heart in the mellow mirth rejoices, Once again with the joyous band ! Sweet is the laughter of merry voices, Kindly the grasp of friendship's hand. In fancy we stray, Until far away We are spending a bygone Christmas Day. But smile and sigh, for across the water Cometh the easy light canoe. Bells of Yule 21 Steered not by Albion's blue-eyed daughter — Nay, by a maiden of darker hue. The vision dies, And 'neath Austral skies From dreams I wake with wond'ring eyes. In the azure sky, the bright sun, shining, Gildeth the mountain, bush, and bay ; Eglantine, lilies, roses twining, Gather we here on Christmas Day ; The shamrock beneath, And a sprig of heath. Rata, Ti-tree, and fern for our wreath. The orchards glow with the ruddy cherry, Clustering vine, fruit-laden tree : Oh, well may young and old be merry At Yule-tide in the Southern sea. Where o'er rock and rill. Over vale and hill, Reigns peace on earth, to men good-will ! We hear not now from the belfry tower The ringing chimes of long ago ; We may not see in the starry hour Through our casement the pure, soft snow. Yet the season dear Is as welcome here, And our ' Merrie Christmas !' as true and clear. 22 Austral Christmas AUSTRAL CHRISTMAS. No softly-falling snowflakes, No holly-berried spray, No little Robin red-breast, To welcome Christmas Day ; No glowing, blazing Yule-log, No shadows on the wall, No merry family party In the old English hall ; No mistletoe hung slyly, Delight of naughty boys ; No Santa Claus, all fur-clad. To bring the children toys ; No gentle, warm enfolding Of dainty forms and fair. And subsequent swift gliding O'er ice through keen, cold air ; No snowdrift purely gleaming, No bright coruscant gem, No crystal that the Frost King Hath in his diadem ; No wintry sky revealing The star to sailors dear ; No, these are only memories In Southern Hemisphere. Amtral Christmas 23 Of tropic blue and brightness The canopy o'erhead, And robed in ample verdure The hiUs and vales we tread. The sunlit waves, foam-crested, Beneath the cliff" their spray Fling o'er Pohutukawa In bloom on Christmas Day. And oft the peal of laughter And tones of joyous glee Are heard in glades long sacred To sylvan minstrelsy, Where the cool drip of water Hath aye a sweeter sound. And all the charms of woodland On every side abound. But 'midst these summer pleasures The heart still seems to say : 'Oh for the winter setting Of hallowed Christmas Day !' But though the frame be different, The picture is the same : On hearts may it grave deeply The great Peace-bringer's name ! On friends near, dear, and distant. Beyond the ocean wide, May Heaven's goodwill blessing Descend this Christmas-tide. 24 Nor'-east NOR'-EAST. A SHEET of silver burnished bright, The tranquil waters of the bay Beneath the Cross* and Crescent lay, A dazzling field of lavished light. Dark loomed the guarding hills around, While on the charmed silence far The surges thundered on the bar, With melancholy, rhythmic sound. 'Twas sweet, when summer roses bud, To wander on that lonely shore, Oft trembling 'neath the dash and roar Of the o'erwhelming ocean flood ; To watch the crested billows rear In Titan sport their emerald wall ; Then let its gleaming glory fall. Awakening all the echoes near ; Or from some jagged rock so lone Gaze on the restless, swirling sea In fascinated reverie, Chained by the force half hid, half shown ; Or, turning from its baffled might. Here, seething foam-wreaths upward leap, There, up some dreary fissure sweep (God guide the coasting barque at night !) ; * Southern Cross and crescent moon. Thames, New Zealand 25 To stroll along the level sand — \A'here, like a white cloud to the view, Disport a dainty feathered crew, Tame as the birds of Crusoe's strand — And gather treasures of the sea : Each ' convoluted smooth-lipp'd shell ' To listening ears strange tales will tell, Sweet charm for slumbering memory. Still fancy sees the moonbeams shine. And hears the surges on the bar, Though changing years have merged them far Amid the mazes of Lang Syne. THAMES, NEW ZEALAND. Though fairer lands be lying Beneath a brighter sun. The critic's shafts defying, Man loveth best but One. And we — yes, we will praise thee, Whoe'er our taste condemns. On the banks of the wide Hauraki, Our quartzy, queer old Thames. No Tuscan sky bends o'er thee. No cedar heights are thine. Thy valleys boast no vine rows. Thy meadows feed few kine. 26 Thames^ New Zealand And yet we praise thee, love thee, Whoe'er our taste condemns, On the banks of the wide Hauraki, Our quiet, quartz-veined Thames. The gulf spreads wide and shallow, No sea of sapphire blue ; The clayey banks lie fallow, Nor shell nor rock in view. Nathless we praise thee, love thee. Whoe'er our taste condemns. On the banks of the wide Hauraki, Our unpretentious Thames. Town by the western waters, Thou hold'st a treasure more Unique than any trophy Of precious golden ore. 'Tis this which binds us to thee, Whoe'er our taste condemns, For there lies by the western waters Our Duke Domuin Thames. GOOD-BYE, COROMANDEL ! Heigho ! for it's over, our day among the fields. Resting amid the clover under the willow shields ; Heigho ! for the good-bye, however long delayed, It must be ' Farewell, farewell,' by lips reluctant said. Good-bye, Coromandel ! 27 Good-bye, Coromandel, with sunny, sea-girt hills ; Dreams bring us back the music that murmurs in thy rills, Paint the daisied meadows where we have been to-day, And all thy hawthorn hedges, a-blossom with white may. Good-bye, Tokatea's fern slopes and harbour view ; Road that rises sunward, light feet ascend o'er you ; Good-bye, old Kapanga ; still yield the golden ore Toil has sought and won from thee full forty years or more. Heigho ! for it's over, and heigho for the mood Of Sherwood's merry rover, the gallant Robin Hood ! Ay, for the spell is broken, brief, bright, Romany hours. Lost with the western sunbeams, lost as the evening lowers. Home, home we are steering, the waves and stars between; 'Three cheers for Coromandel, three for the Lincoln green !' Heigho for the parting (the sea is deep and wide) ! Hark how the mountains echo the farewell from the tide ! CHRISTMAS CHIMES. Church bells ! church bells ! o'er hills and dells Ring near, ring far away ; Oh, mellow chimes of olden times, Sweet bells of Christmas Day! Ye gravely chime the flight of Time, While languor steeps our Southern clime. 28 Christmas Chimes Church bells ! church bells ! the music swells, By summer breezes sped. The good ships ride on the glittering tide, Blue bright, round the old North Head. From stem to poop the gay flags droop O'er many a gallant barque and sloop. Church bells ! church bells ! your magic spells Have well-nigh wakened tears. As o'er the sea the spirit free Relives the vanished years, The blame and praise of bygone days All softened now by memory's haze. Church bells! church bells! church bells! church bells ! The clouds hang dense and gray ; Now loud, now low, across the snow The floating echoes play. The holly-bough ! the mistletoe ! The Christmas waits of long ago ! Church bells ! church bells ! how love impels True hearts ! Though far we stray On foreign shore, yet friends of yore Seem near on Christmas Day. Oh, they are near, as thought makes clear Affection's balance for the year. O'er this lone island sunbeams troop To-day in golden mail ; In grove, on height, the flowers are bright. And verdant hill and dale ; While by the sea our Christmas-tree, In crimson, blushes gloriously. Woodland Wanderings zg Oh, bells of joy ! sweet bells of Yule ! Ring long, and loud, and clear, Till hearts shall beat, and lips shall meet, And Arcady be here ! Love shall hold sway while ye convey ' Goodwill to men ' on Christmas Day. WOODLAND WANDERINGS. I ROAMED through the Bush to-day Where fantastic shadows fell, And over the boulders gray Rushed a creek through the ferny dell. I climbed o'er the jagged ledge To watch the waterfall. With its far-down verdant sedge And stony, fern-clad wall. Then across the fallen trees, With elastic step and fleet, While o'erhead there passed a breeze Intoning low and sweet. Through lacing boughs wide spread, There glinted the summer sky. And crisply beneath my tread Rustled twigs and branches dry. With shrinking hand I took Rare fragile ferns away From their home, a sheltered nook, Meet haunt for elf and fay. 30 Woodland Wanderings 'Twas a dell at a mountain's foot, And I strove to gain the height By clinging to many a root Of fibrous network tight. There drooped the graceful fold Of the lithesome Rata vine ; Round trees majestic, old, Festoons of ivy twine. I rested beneath the shade Of the Nikau's waving frond. In a wild romantic glade, While the world seemed far beyond ; There heard a harp-like sound. So liquid, dulcet, clear, Chime with the stream's rebound, And knew the Tui near. And a strangely restful calm O'er all did sweetly breathe, For care a sovereign balm. Excelling lotus wreath. Then sportive Fancy led Staid, sober thoughts away ; How swift and far they sped 'Twere difficult to say. The mystic eager guide No halt nor tarrying made Where rapid rivers glide, Nor moor nor mountain stayed. To Helene 31 Oh, happy morning dreams, Still ending brightly, well, Creek, songster, sunny gleams, Your charms I cannot tell. But safe within the heart, Enshrined 'mong treasures dear, A picture bright thou art To solace and to cheer. TO H]feLfeNE. Far from the home of the Rata-wreathed Kauri ; Far from the Bush, with its Nikau and fern ; Far from the beautiful land of the Maori ; Far from its lakes, clear as Alpine Lucerne ; Far from Hauraki's blue waters gleaming. Calm Kauaeranga soft treading the glade ; Far from Miranda's hill heights, where dreaming Western Aurora departing delayed ; Far from the crimson Pohutukawa treasure, Rich downy bloom, laurel-foliaged tree ; Far from the bell-bird's deep note of pleasure, H^lfene smiles, far o'er the severing sea. Blossoms of joy her path sweetly strewing. Star-beams of comfort shed there from above. Bear on, proud billows, the mild zephyrs wooing. I charge ye, bear on this avowal of love ! 32 The Rata Bear her this loyal affectionate greeting, Fondly remembered — alas ! though not near — Heralds of happiness, love never fleeting : Glad be her Christmas and fair her New Year. THE RATA. B.ARE is the snowy Rata, The red blooms wild and free ; But the Aroha Rata, The crimson Southern Rata, Is one I love to see. Go, stand upon the mountain, And gaze adown the steep Above the water's rushing ; It climbs the hillside blushing A conscious crimson deep. Or penetrate the dense Bush, To witness, nothing loath, The stately tree sublimer. Or parasitic climber Twined round the Kauri growth. So red, or white, or crimson. The Rata hath its sphere. On beetling rock, low valley. And crowded forest alley. Its island home doth cheer. The Gowan's Mission 33 Rare is the snowy Rata, The red blooms wild and free ; But the Aroha Rata, The soft sweet Southern Rata, Stands highest in decree. THE GOWAN'S MISSION. 'TwAS not upon a Scottish brae It smiled ; the upturned face Could gaze upon no sweet bluebell, Nor list its chime in fairy dell. So full of airy grace. No thistle reared its purple crest. Undauntedly and free ; No sweetly smelling yellow broom, Or fragrant woodruffs rare perfume, To tempt the roving bee. No mountain heather, pink or white, Whispering solitude. Nor mavis lilting loud and clear ; No silent studious herd-boy near, Nor kye, of peaceful mood. Severed firom those associates. Where few would ever see Its look, so innocent of guile. Trusting, confiding wee exile, A gowan on the lea. 34 The Cowan's Mission That far away from Albyn's shore Had its appointed lot ; A lone Pacific-bounded isle Was gladdened by its presence, while Thoughts of Lang Syne it brought; And thronging tender memories Of happy childish days ; Filial regard, fraternal love, And many a dear one now above. Beyond the weird life maze. The church where pious fathers bowed In worship reverently, With its enclosure, verdant, calm, That often heard the solemn psalm, Devotion's melody ; The gray and moss-grown monuments. That spoke departed worth. And many other hillocks green. With blanks in friendship's love-list seen. Change in the land of birth. The peaceful, old-time air of home. And youthful fancies free ; A Scotchman's pride, Edina fair ; The Clyde, whose waves did onward bear His vessel to the sea. All passed before the mental view With strange rapidity. As Scotland's patriotic child Found in a Southern climate mild A sowan on the lea. The Gowan's Mission 35 Where healthful saline breezes float O'er a New Zealand hill, And hardy native Ti-tree grows, A creek adown its quartz-bed flows, To speed the crushing mill ; While from the dense and sombre Bush Resounds the Tui's cry, Where graceful fern-trees seem to be Combining true humility With station proud and high. The agile, lightly-bounding goats Cropping rich herbage near ; Blue, glancing, sunny, foam-flecked waves Reverberate in the rocky caves That on the coast appear. O'erhead the clear and azure dome. Cloudless infinity ; Mingling of simple and sublime, Creation's voice and bloom of time, A gowan on the lea. That little white and golden flower, Recalling Scotia's shore ; Where memory round each cherished spot Entwined a true forget-me-not, For happy days of yore. Though ocean rolled for leagues between. Far distant all his kin. It stirred a fount of feehng deep, JFreed from Reserve's grim castle-keep, A heart long pent therein. 36 On the Wharf Henceforth a kindlier sympathy Would in that bosom be ; With its God-given Evangel smile, Thus blessed and cheered the poor exile A gowan on the lea. Each flower, so varied, lovable. Who would not learn from thee ? Fond clinging ivy, lily white, Sweet jasmine, rose, nor ever slight A gowan on the lea. ON THE WHARF. I SAT on the wharf one evening ; The fish in the stream leapt high ; Orion's shining armour Hung low in the western sky. I sat on the wharf one evening, And looked on the eastern range Of hills, like tall masqueraders Disguised in their costume strange ; While the well-known goldfields' music Fell pleasantly on the ear, The rhythmic beat of the stampers From batteries far and near. On the Wharf 37 I watched from the wharf one evening Till the silver moon was seen, Fairy-like the Gentle Annie And the Una Hill between. Waking visions of days vanished, Ere the Pakeha came here ; Only the moon and the mountain Unchanged through each changing year. Only the moon and the Moreporks Are now as they used to be. When the echoes weirdly answered To Ngatipo's revelry. I gazed on the calm Hauraki, That bore on her heaving breast The hero of a hundred fights* Long since ; but he is at rest. Those lights to northward gleaming Alternately red and blue. Shine from our Rotomahana, And not from a war-canoe. Then down on the wharf that evening We chatted right merrily Of men and women in plain prose. Without hint of poesie. Yet down on the wharf that evening Thus our complex nature wrought In hearing, seeing, and speaking, While hoarding heart-deep thought. * Hongi Ika. 38 Orange Blossoms Buried deep like the richest ore, Which the trolls alone may view, Far too deep for the diamond drill, Let it screw, and screw, and screw ! ORANGE BLOSSOMS. There never was such a time before in this quiet town of ours. There never was such a gathering of bridal bouquet flowers. We have had many an Easter here, and very nice ones too. But never an Easter yet with such hymeneal ado. The talk has been nothing but trousseaux since Christmas time, and thus The dear girls have had a picnic, but the men say, ' Blooming fuss !' There never was such a time before in this sleepy Thames of ours ; There never was such a gathering of bridal bouquet flowers. I can't exactly tell you what has put it into the head Of so many Jocks and Jennies at this Easter to be wed ; But the fact remains, delightful fact, and as we wish them well, I think that the verger should be told to ring St. George's beU. Orange Blossoms 39 For somehow we are all in this, even if we don't say so, Though it's just like those colonials ?ioi to ring the bell, you know. Now when our hearts are all o'ercharged with joy, we need a ' went,' And the Easter chimes with wedding chimes in one could well be blent. And when the passing years have rolled away with many a change, When the bride and groom no longer may by old Hauraki range. Within their hearts this memory shall for aye be kept alive, ' The Easter week when we were wed, at the Thames in ninety-five.' BRIDE BELLS. 'And so endeth a wooing.' — E. B. Browning. Bride bells ! lily bells ! and all the town must go Where bride bells and lily bells silver with their snow Youth's dream, lover's dream, while summer roses greet Love's power and joy's hour with their perfume sweet. Bride bells ! lily bells ! a vision of pure grace Sistering the fairy flowers, a drooping maiden face. Bride bells and lily bells, orange blossoms pale, Clasping the diaphanous, softly flowing veil. 40 A Christmas Colloquy Bride bells ! lily bells ! a hush, a murmured prayer, Bended brows, solemn vows, a golden ring to wear. Bride bells ! lily bells ! white wreathing o'er her head ; Rainbow blossoms glow beneath her happy tread. Bride bells ! lily bells ! and to the pulsing strain Of Mendelssohn's glad heart-beats goes the bridal train. A CHRISTMAS COLLOQUY. CHILDREN. We wonder if Christmas will ever be here ! We wish we could keep it up twice every year. We look up the almanack daily to see When the dear happy holidays really will be. With money and mince-pies, oh, any amount ! And parties and picnics beyond any count. No wonder we weary for such merry cheer : How nice if it came to us twice every year ! MOTHERS. Just fancy, if Christmas again isn't here ! And it's no time at all since we had it last year ; With its company, cooking and cleaning, and heat. We house-keeping mothers will all be dead beat, For everything comes with a rush, as they say. And a houseful of racketing children all day. Now, what a grand breathing-space we should have clear. If Christmas came only, say, each second year. A Christmas Colloquy 41 FATHERS. The bachelors may well be gay. Our locks are growing thin and gray ; Each olive branch this time of year Mysteriously grows more dear. ' Our new piano, dear papa, And the Axminster for mamma.' ' A bicycle, I must have one,' The pet pipes forth. ' You know that gun,' The heir chimes in ; ' 'tis my desire That promise, sir, should not hang fire.' What mortal with such odds can cope ? Bank overdraft, then — Great P. slope ! Till we hold shares in the Wahi, Let Christmas come one year in tAree ! CHILDREN. Oh, mothers, you would not deprive Us of our joy ! MOTHERS. Dear heart alive ! You blessed, blessed children, no ! We'll ice the cakes that truth to show, If fathers grudge you FATHERS. Hold on, there ! Don't make us kin to grizzly bear. Now, quit that hugging. Well, maybe We'll stand you one more Christmas-tree ! 42 The Wreck of the ' Wairarapa ' THE WRECK OF THE 'WAIRARAPA.' Ne'er before New Zealand's network of electric wire has told Of such pitiful disaster round her wave-washed head- lands bold. Years shall come, and years shall vanish, over smiling hill and dale Ere from memory is banished this pathetic shipwreck tale. Coming eastward, steaming westward, as the good ships take their way — ' That is where the Wairarapa struck the Barrier,' men will say. And the child will clasp its mother with a childish face of dread. As from passing deck she points it towards the nor'-west Miner's Head. So the thrice-repeated story shall be still revived anew, While the Barrier bluffs uprear them, over forty fathoms blue, And the east coast to the west coast chant in sister tones of woe : 'Here was wrecked the Wairarapa; here, the Orpheus long ago.' Which was sadder, late, or long since ? who dare choose in either case ? Leave the transport with its heroes, and the Wairarapa trace. See, in fancy, through the fog bank how she breasts her onward course ! The Wreck of the ' Wairarapa ' 43 Resolutely, all impervious of old Ocean's mantled force. Till the weary day a-waning, lovingly a mother smiled, To her heart her baby straining : ' We shall land to- morrow, child.' And the infant slept serenely, as the night winds upward bore O'er the voice of many waters Sabbath songs of home- land shore. Snug and safe lay many landsmen in their homes that fatal night, Hearing not the crash portentous, nor the wild cry of affright 'Midst the boom and dash of surges underneath an ebon sky. As the hapless people wakened, God of Mercy ! but to die ! Life is sweet ! veil, veil the anguish of that black tumultous hour When the might of man was baffled by the elements' grim power. Oh ! in thought we turn back shuddering ; we can only pray and weep For the desolate survivors, with their grief for tears too deep. May God help them, and God spare us from the passion- ate, keen pain Of the ceaseless, hopeless yearning for the loved and lost again ! May this mystery of suffering urge us onward by its smart Towards the Home that lies before us, where they meet but do not part ! 44 Emilie's Story of the Wreck of the " Wairarapa ' All New Zealand thrills with pity, many hearts love's vigil keep, While the coastal billows' foam-wreath over those who dreamless sleep, Like the immortelles of grief, shall lie around the Miner's Head Until the dawning of the day when the sea gives up her dead. EMILIE'S STORY OF THE WRECK OF THE 'WAIRARAPA.' On the twenty-eighth October, in the year o' ninety-four. We were in the Wairarapa off New Zealand's nor'-east shore. All day long the fog had wrapped us, but we leaned, as lands-folk must. On the knowledge of the captain, who had all our lives in trust ; Even when the gloom of evening — darksome ally of the fog — Rolled its serried cohorts round us, and they steered us by the log. Thirteen and a half knots making. Onward, onward through the brine Ran the gallant Wairarapa, best boat of the Union line. She was built in Denny's shipyard far away upon the Clyde, Where Dumbarton's rock and castle stand in age-defying pride. Emilie's Story of the Wreck of the ' Wairarapa ' 45 Like a fair sea-bride she glided safely o'er the pathless blue, To the shores of brighter Britain, first in eighteen eighty-two : Sister to the MatiafouH — household names to high and low, Where the daily papers carry dates of the ' U.S.S. Co.' We were due in Auckland Harbour on that foggy Sunday night. Hoped to wake at Queen Street jetty with the early morning's light. Some were singing on the steamer well-known words to well-known air, ' Shall we gather at the river?' who are now safe gathered there. Laura Flavell shared my cabin with her comrade Annette Paul, And at midnight from our slumbers we were startled, one and all, By a crash which stopped the heart-beat ! ' A\1iat has happened ?' is the cry. ' Do not be afraid,' said Laura ; ' we are both prepared to die. God our Father will watch o'er us.' Then the Army lassie prayed, Braced us for the unknown danger, like a soldier un- dismayed. And we struggled up to main-deck, through the awful midnight gloom, While the Army lassie's chorus rose above the breakers' boom ; 46 Emilie's Story of the Wreck of the ' Wairarapa ' Clinging fast to iron stanchions, face to face with Death at last, Listening to the cries of anguish heard above the shriek- ing blast ! Helpless lay the stranded vessel, listing awfully to port — Horses, children, men and women victims for the wild waves' sport. Oh, that long, long night of terror, every nerve and muscle strained. Drenched with salt spray, fiercely holding the precarious footing gained ! Oh, the breaking of the gray dawn ! Oh, the death freight of the sea ! Woe, instead of joyous welcome ; wailing in the place of glee ! Oh, the glooming of the gray rock, where the billows thunder loud ! Oh, the bonnie and the blooming with the sea-weed for their shroud ! Oh, that cry, 'Will no one help me?' in a piteous mother tone ! Frantic, round her tender infants wildly is her death- clasp thrown. 