Maoriland.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 897, 10 May 1889, Page 4

Maoriland.

Fair island whose waters for ever are clashing, •Where meuntains of snow 'neath the sunbeams are flashing ; Whoso valleys are dotted with wild flowers and clover As varied in hues as the skies bending over ! ’Tis the land of the rata, the rimu, the kauri', The land of tbe earthquake, the moa, the Maori, The land of broad, rivers, swift torrent, and fountain : The land of the storm-god, deep chastn, and mountain. There is peace in her homes, and fair bloom on her meadows, Thetul’s sweet song breaks the depth of her shadows ; All the tints of the east, all that genius can render, Tet how tame they appear to the unrivalled splendour Of the land where the fronds of the tree-fern are drooping. Whose waters like eagles to battle are swooping. The land of the fire king, the lake, and the fountain, The land of the pine tiee, the gorge, and the mountain. There is white moss like snow on the tall pine trees growing, : And hush blossomß too in the summer winds blowing There are strong hands, and pure hands, and forms , of the fairest, hertare firm hearts, and true hearts, and love of the rarest. Idve guarded by hills which loom dark with defiance, And frown at invasion, and hostile alliance. Who would dare to encroach on the land of the fountain, The land of the geyser, the moa, the mountain. h. J. S.