A STRING OF LYRICS.

Auckland Star, Volume V, Issue 1498, 28 November 1874, Page 5 (Supplement)

A STRING OF LYRICS.

Br John Blackmax,

i. Shakespeare's Cliff. Oxe liappy morn I sat on Shakespeare's cliff, In musing mood, from care's encroachments free, And saw before me'many a fairy skiff, Upon the summer sea. The sun rays danced in beauty o'er the bay, Where shallow waves in bright, succession curled, While on the sea's green bo?om schooners lay, With mainsails white unfurled. Though scenes around me, all were beauty fraught, And ministered to fancy, life and love ; I hand one curious—one absorbing thought— All other thoughts above. Did Shakespeare ever tread this windy height, And on this cliff attune the living lyre. Did sky and water, bathed in Heaven's own light, His tragic muse inspire ? The poet might have sat upon this cliff, He might have gazed on yonder summer sea, The mere conjecture, bordering on belief, Was almost real to me. 11. THE EMIGRANT'S FAREWKLL TO ENGLAND. Adieu ! my native English Isle, I leave thee with regret, No more for me thy fields will smile 'Tween graceful hedgerows set. Adieu ! ye cattle-haunted hills, Ye gladsome vales and tinkling rills, Ye uplands gay with golden corn— Where larks salute the blushing mom, Where daisies light the swarded way, Amid the fragrant charms of May ; Ye friends, now passing from my view, I bid ye all a long —perhaps a last adieu. In thee, fair Isle, I fain would stay, And bear an honest part; But I must live, and reason's sway, Outsways my yearning heart. I seek a home in distant isles, Where nature sheds her affluent smiles Where labour's sous, though taxed they be, May earn the bread denied by thee, And where a man b}^ toil may thrive, And keep his self-respect alive ; Where plenty sits at worthy feet, And weaves her rosy wreath around the heart's retreat. What though thou gave'sfc great Shakespeare birth, And woke sweet Spenser's strain ; Their glorious songs sound o'er the earth, Unbounded by the main. Still Milton may inspire my powers— Still Burns delight my silent hours— Still unto me thy bards may sing, And sweetest consolation bring, 'Mid wild-flowers under shady trees, With native birds and murmuring bees, By bush, or creek, or mountain stream, With unencumbered ease, in Fancy's lightest dream. England ! I leave thy scenes of health, To tread New Zealand's shore I Amid thy ill-apportioned wealth, I'll vex my soul no more. I leave thy towns and foetid shades, Which want, with aspect grim, pervades, Where thousands worn with hapless strife,' Die out in sheer despair of life, Where misery pines 'tween workhouse walls, Where God's bright sunshine rarely falls To cheer the glooms of withering age, And where the pauper ends his weary pilgrimage. 111. MOONLIGHT AT 5EA.,,...... I'm on the sea, the restless sea, On its waters wild and deep, But give to me, from tempests free, The vale with its tranquil sleep. The storm wind blows, the ship still goes, And the white waves dash and fly, Give me repose, where blooms the rose, 'Neath a star-lit, summer sky. Some love the sea—the surging sea, — And its wonders, dimly seen ; But give to me, the moss-clad lea— In its suit of golden green, .. In fair moonshine our ship looks fine, With her fluttering out-spread sails, But ho ! for a seat in a snug retreat 'Mong pastoral hills and daleg. IV. THE ICEBEHa. An ocean wonder floats before my sight, A fairy castle on the mighty waves ; A chilling iceberg sparkling in the light,With purpling towers and richly vaulted caves. Upon its ramparts rainbow hues are seen, As sailing o'er the ocean's blue abyss ; The earth embosoms many a glorious scene, But ne'er unveils a marvel like to this. V. AUCKLAND. Ho ! ho ! boys, the first mate cries, Awake for the morn is bright. There's a scene ahead to gladden your eyes, The land, the land is in sight. Up, up, to the bulwarks side We scampered the land to see, And in the distance a rock we espied— A speck o'er the dreary sea. A joy to our yearning hearts, Ye, who have traversed the main Will know what joy such a scene imparts, 1 A sight of the land again. Three months on the ocean wide— Three months on the deep and more— Then sweet is Parnell in its flowery pride, And Auckland's city and shore.