THE PIONEERS

Grey River Argus, 14 February 1940, Page 9

THE PIONEERS

(By William Duffy, a Pioneer.) (Recited by Matt Willing, at Pioneers’ Gathering). Oh, the Old West Coasters were never boasters, They had bone and muscle, and the brain to plan. The Coast held attraction for men oi action, And the Celt and Saxon were in the van. We were of all nations and occupation. Fenians and Masons, come the gold to win; Greeks and Germans, Frenchmen, Hibernians, And big Far Downers, mostly Orangemen. The rivers we waded and our tracks we graded . Ere daylight faded deep in the bush, ‘ Puffing and blowing but onward going . ~ For the smoke was showing the ’ Green stone Rush. Footsore and jaded the goal we

made it, And the claims we raided the goli to view. There it was shining, no man was ■ whining, But all were pining for prospects new. . , All young and able, but somewhat unstable, To the latest Rush we were sure to go, Be it true or fable, whether white or sable, We were up and off at the word,

Rush ■ O. But the gold was here boys, to the surface near, boys, 1 Beaches, gullies, terrace and creek, n Oh, you could not miss it; but now t where is it? c .. S There’s lots in Westland go for it to seek. Its in your arms; its in the farms. See the homes and barns, the work of years. ( From Nature’s College, we draw our c knowledge And you’re the sons and daughters of those pioneers. On my brain it fires, and my music inspires, I Till my heart tires its side to show. 1 I love you, Westland, for you are t the best land 1 In all New Zealand, where ere you < go. Your lofty mountains, cascade and . fountains, i Your rapid rivers that madly flow, ; Your lakes, your glaciers, hot springs; now where k ' A place like Westland, I’d like to know? You’ll be yet. made famous by some young genius That has heart and brain and the gift to see, Your valleys glowing and your rivers, flowing, And your mountains showing all poetry. To the old rhymes, my brother miners The good Old Timers—they’re growing few; They’re most all in Heaven —and to the few still living I’ll soon be bidding my last adieu. When comes the order to cross the border From the Great Recorder of good and crime, To the Heavenly Keeper, the great Saint Peter, That is growing sweeter and more divine. I pass up my papers, and he says, “Be J’apers! You’re from the Coast, and I hope you’re fine. How’s Tommy Seddon, Felix Camp- , bell, Mick Hannan? I’m here and ready to welcome them in.” Here’s Joe Grimmond and the old men and women, And the coming Jubilee. • Now bare your heads to our mates that, dead, Long may they live, boys, to memory. To our Parliament, and the man we sent To represent the Coast for years, To dear old Westland and her mountains grand, And the brave old band, the Pioneers. Your glasses clink, to their memory drink,

All our grievances sink in our heartfelt toast . To her Jubilee and her prosperity, . And three times three for the Dear West Coast., . v