STANZAS,

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume I, Issue 107, 9 July 1866, Page 3

STANZAS,

WRITTEN ON THE MAUNGATAPXJ MUKDEBS, Read by Miss Aitken, last Friday evening, in the Odd-Fellows' Hall. Tranquility had long embraced us here, Security had clasp'd us in her arms; Our days had all been spent devoid of fear, No dreadful deed evoked in us alarms; Time truly swell'd our comforts, year by year, And show'red upon us life's delighting charms: Peace and its blessings — plenty and its store Seemed to be ours — nor did we ask for more. But 'midst our joys a fearful cry arose, That sent the warm blood back on ev'ry heart ; And 'roused our city from its long repose — And made the very bravest 'mong us start ! 'Twas not in terror of invading foes That fill'd the cottage, as the city's mart. With trembling voices, and deep groans of wo, And mut'rings of revenge. Ah ! no ! — ah ! no ! It was a voice from Maungatapu's height Which said — a dreaful deed of blood is done ; Done ! in the noonday's bright unclouded lightYea ! in the very face of God's great sun. Crime, it is often said, delights in night, And . would, while at its toils, c'en starlight shun ; But those who did this horrid work of blood, Are lost to all that's human — bad or good. Vengeance ! vengeance ! this deed we must unfold, Each noble youth within our city eried — Our murder'd brethren on yon wilds lie cold, And shall we not discover how they died ? Two hundred gallant youth's were soon enroll'd, And with firm step unto the mountain hied — And day by day they toil'd to find the truth ; Glory and honor attend these gallant youth ! The wintry rain fell thick and cold on them, But slacken'd not their toil, for day by day These noble men went to their work the same — Their gallant energies brook'd no delay. There is no honor that the tongue can name, Which they deserve not for the ardent way They persevered until their toil was done, And five lov'd murder'd brethren brought us every one. Is there a land can tell so sad a tale, As this long peaceful province now may tell ? Is there a spot that ever did bewail So much of innocence cut down ? In hell The fiends of darkness may such monsters hail, And hug them for their works so horrible ; But earth must rid itself of such as they Who wrought these crimes — and that without delay. WM. HOGG. July sth, 1866.