POETRY.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXVI, Issue 3256, 13 October 1897, Page 1 (Supplement)

POETRY.

ORIGINAL VERSE. ZEALANDIA. [By Henry T. Flkcher, Kansan ] Into the far spent watches of the night A poet’s hapless fate did I deplore, Beneath the waning moon’s pale silvery light, AEne where loud the angry breakers roar. When, lo 1 a vision woke upon my view, Out of the fleecy wreaths of mist and spray, As fair as inspired fancy ever drew With pencil tipt with more than light of day. Me thought I saw a maiden robed in white, Of dazzling beauty and . f matchless grace, A glory of the softest lambieut light Shining o’er every feature of her face.

Her tresses in a cataract of gold, A rsdient shower of wavy silk, around shoulders that mocked the surf for whiteness, rolled. But for one white clematis braid unbound.

Blushed rosy-red a Poh’tnkawa flower Upon her heaving bosom’s glittering swell, Amid such dainty fern leaves as embower Our every shadowy nook and silvan dell.

Her bright orbs azure as the Southern Sea, Were radiant with the vestal fires of youth, W*th honour, courage, hope, love, modesty— With all that kindles in the glance of truth.

Her brow, a glittering temple of pure thought, Shone like a snow-flake shadowed by a cloud That evening into burnished gold has wrought Its Sun-God’s bower of repose to shroud.

Her figure—almost martial iu its pose— Had somewhat of Britanuia's regal ai-, But in her beauty—like a budding rose— Was writ a promise to be yet more fair.

There was that in her every look which tells Of changeless purpose, great achievements done, And of a lofty fearless mind that dwells On glory bright and spotless as the sun.

A wreath of softest wavy, green sho hold In one band ; a rude harp the other bore, Through which the wind with thrills of rapture swelled, As soft it sighed along the salt sea shore.

find in a voice clear as the silvery note Of the wild bell-bird on a summer’s noon, When the sweet chiming of its gushing threat . Rings through the lonely Bush in peals of tune;

She thus spoke i Child of Song 1 behold in me— Zealandia—genius of this foam-girt strand. This lovelier Britain of the Southern Sea. This plenty-giving, freedom-nurtured land ;

From the green trackless mazes of the bush, Up in the ranges, where the Eiraus grow, Where the tali Katas into blossom flush, And the Clematis wreaths its twines of snow j

I hither come—O, Faint Heart Ito inspire, To fan the embers of thy muse to song, To thrill with strains of patriotic fire A harp to dark despair that does belong;

To crown thee with this wreath—when never more Will song of thiee in other accents rise But that which breath of this—my native shore—. ■ In proud laudations ringing to the skies.

I knelt, and with her soft, white hand she bound. The twine of leaves with midnight dewdrops hung Lika countless flashing diamonds, gently round My brow —when, lo! from out the darkness sprung

A light, and there, as in a magic glass, Vision, on vision into beauty grew, And did like glamour of enchantment pass Before my dazzled gaze, in bright review,

Fair Cities with a teeming commerce crowned, Green plenty-smiling plains and valleys wide, Proud ranges cloaked with virgin bush around ; Deep rivers winding down to meet the tide;

Dread wonderlands of fire, pale realms of snow, Wide harbours, pleasant islands, headlands bold, ■ Lake, cascade, torrent —all that serves to

throw A charm around this sunny land of gold,

There shone the past—the justly honoured past, The present big with all that crowns the free, The future—there ite horoscope was cast, And fate traced never prouder destiny.

There stood our noble Senators—wise. Grey Great hearted Ballar.ee, ever hand in hand j With Atkinson toiling their brave lives away; And S:ddon, now the pillar of our land.

All in one moment flashed upon my sight Like tbe bright vision of a happy dream, Then faded out into the silvery light, Evanished in tbe moon’s pale spectoral gleam.

Now 1 cried Zealandia, bid thy harp awake, And every chord with patriotic strains, Will on the downy ear of silence break, And with one thrill reudthy dark fortune’s ebaius.

The moon behind a bank of clouds withdrew, When it emerged again, alas! had flown The lovely apparition from my view, ! And with wild beating heart I stood alone.

THE NATION’S EMBLEM. [By J. M. Smyth ] i. Name me a flower that the Nation may wear : One known to this soil ere we came— Nor shamrock, nor rose, nor thistle declare, As the flower you would feelingly name. There’s surely a plant in its sylvan abode, That the maidens of Taniwha sent As a token of love when they sought to he woo’d, And a life’s heart-devotion was meant.

Find me this flower in high land or glade, Where by nature ’tis cherished most,; And let it be one from which badge may be made . To denote the hoart-umon we boast. . If you may, choose a flower in which is displayed , ~ The blue of our seas and our skies ; For this with its green is the colour that’s laid • By Heav’n when limning Truth's guise.

Find me a flower that tho soldier may wear When he rallies to guard our lov’d shore. And advances to hurl back the foeman who dare To knock at our liberty’s door. A floweret to deck the heroes who fall While guarding our hearths and our home ; A floweret by which to swear, one and all, That no foeman our land ehall o’eroome.

Find me a flower that the hapless may bear From the soil where his memories ora laid ; ’Neath laps of brown earth, where, freo’d from life’s care, . A soj mrner rests in the shade. That tbe hapless muy bear, should misfortune e’er urge His steps to a land deem’d mote* green, Through the mists of the tears that rise o’er the surge Of heart’s ocean which lies deep between.

Find me a flower, and name me a day, When from North to far South in one-voice, From East to the West, the people may say That such is the flower of their choica. Seek-for this flower e’ve where man ne%*r yet trod, Yet where freemen might, happily, dwell: It were well were it gather’d where nothing ’twixt God And it, save a cloud-shadow, fell, Wellington, September 16. r SELECTED VERSE. THE DEAD-DRAP. [By Nimmo Chbistie.l Dreep drap, dreep drap, i* the Jang an* lanely nioht; ... Dreep drap, dreep draj), my heart is quick wi fricht j For ane is summoned frae dear hame an life an’ kindly licht.

They’re sleepin’ a’, they’re eleepin’ a’, aa ■ warm an* peacefullie As if canid death was far awa’ at wark upon the sea ; But 0 1 he’s near at ban! an’ tells a wearie tale to me.

An’ will he tak’ the raven hair, or will he tak’ the gray ? Or will be nag a finger bare at lauchin’, lintwhite May ? O, let him mak’ a sign to me, for gladly I would I Dreep drap, dreep drap, in a nicht without a mune; Dreep drap, dreep drap—it drape a loo’ed life dune. I sit an’ shiver by mysel’—God send the daylicht sane I —Black and White. THE COON’S LULLABT. Heah, yo* Rastas, shet yo’ little sleepy held, Mammv gwine tu’h rock hu’h lamb tu’b res’ — (l'o’ lamb i Ebry little possum chile am dreamiu’ in its bed, Yo’s my precious honey—yes, yo’ am I Swing, oh I sing, oh I Lucy whar yo’ bin so late? • Lemma catch a niggab courtin’yo’— (Yee, you!) Hurry up, yo’ rascals, fo* dere’s co’n bread on de plate— Fo’ Mammy loves hu’b buniea, yes, she do !■■

Laws now, Basins, I done gwioe tu’h swat yo' bard, ■ - Slap yo’ta’h a peak an’break it off— (Po' lamb!) Monst’one, dreSnl Bogie Man am waitin’ in da yard— Mammie’e only jokin’, yea. she am ! , Swing, oh! sing, ob! Petah, yes, I see yo’, git! Washington, I’ll cu’l yo’ wooll fo’ yiy—r(7es y you I) Nebar in da whole rouu’ wo’id I seen aich ' Chilians yit— Bat Mammy lores hn’h honies, yes, ehe do I —Ma secy’s Magazine, .