"GOD'S OWN COUNTRY."

Tuapeka Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1904, 15 June 1892, Page 5

"GOD'S OWN COUNTRY."

[BY THOM&S bBaOKE«.] (Written for the 'New Zealand Herald,')

A roooDt arrival from New Zoaiand, walking along Collins street, Melbourne, a short time siuce, encountered another Maorilander who holds a good position in the Victorian capital. " Well, how do you like Australia ?" inquired the recent arrival. "Oh! it's a wonderful place," replied the other, " and I am doing very well here, but I would much sooner live on a far smallor salary in ' God'a Own Country.' "

Glve me, give me God's own country ! there to live and there to die ; God's own country ! fairest region resting 'neath the Southern sky ; God's own country ; framed by Nature in her grandest, noblest mould ; Laud of peace and land of plenty, land of v/00l and corn and gold I Where the forests are tho greenest, and the tuggod mountains rear Noble turrets, towers, and spires, piercing through the ambient air ; Rising tv the gates tupernal, pointing God wards through tne blue, When tbe summer's funny splendors tip them with a namelesß hue, And tha of wiuter gather snow and sleet and mist and cloud, Weaving many a cutious mantle, many a quaint fantastic shroud. Oh ! the mountains of New Zealand wild and rugged ihougb thty be, They are types of highest manhood, landmarks of a nation free Pleasure ground of the Pacific ! brightest region on tne mam ! Land of many a rushing river, verdant valley, fertile plain ! I revisit thee, infancy, all thy wonders rise once

more, Once again, enthrall'd, I listen to old Touga-

• riro's roar, Tarawera mused to fury belches forth his molten wrath, Ami a host of fiery demons dance along hi 3

flaming path, Boiling cauldronß, foaming geysers, lakes, whose

bosoms leap with fear ; Well and truly is it written : " Wonderland ia

really here !" Shift tbe scene ! Night grows to morning, morn ' soon ripena into day, Lovely islands crowd and cluster in a bright and

plaoid bay, Silver ripples shimmer softly on tbe bosom of

the deep, And the mountains sec their faces, for the wind

ia fast asleep. Bay of Islands! biy cf beauty! who would

dieam »ht*t> such a place Should have been a BC-me of daughter, man

'gainst man, and race 'gainst race ; Yonder, in the little churchyard, mouldering tombstones sadly tell Tales of valor and of honor, records of how

brave men fell In tha sacred cauee of duty ; thauka to God,

those dayß arc o'er, And the old race and the new race now are

pnewies no more. Sweep we round by Bangitoto, with his rough

and rocky creafc, Grim old guardian of the gateway leading out

to Ocean's breast ; Takapuoa slumbers deeply, Waitemata opes Mb

aims, All its loveliness unfolding, circled by a

hundred charms. Fly we on to Taranaki, and 'noath Egmont's

shade we stand— Egmont, monarch of the mountains ! bold, majestic, solemn grand ; Rising trom the pleasant pastures, climbing to

the clouds alone, Peerless and without a rival, proudly sits he on

hia throne. It is morning in the summer, and the monarch

Is arrayed In his pure white cap and mantle, which were

never known to fade. All the blue above is spocldeas, only one small

cloud is seen Sleeping on the mountain's boaom, nestling

'fc»ixt the gold and green ; Now it seems as if awaking, Blowly it begins to

creep Upwards in a spiral colnmn, making for the

summit ste^p, But it fails to reach the apex, bo it curls itself

away Round about the monarch's shoulders, like A

silken scarf of gray ; And the Ka&t flings out Its glories on the

monarch as he stands, Crowning him with spirkling jewels, richly set

in golden band?. On we no by happy homesteads, on to Wanga-

nui's fl iod — Oft were Wanganui's waters, in the old time,

fctained with blood ; Now aloag the stately liver flocks and herds

" Stay ! oh,

o'er uplands graze, Peace baa swept away for ever traces of the warlike days. Soar fmm ialand unto island, for were we to tarry here, TraciDg all the North land's be^utios, we might linger for a yi'ar. Fancy's wings are swift and silent, o'er the sea and o'er tbe Strait — Canterbury smiles before us. Ah ! we have no time to wait ; Fly we o'er green pictures shining in their frames of spring's new gold, Fly we pist the umiling homesteads, fly we over field acd fold — Onward o'er the Pass of Arthur ! Afagicland is drawing near — Gait ! Ihe Gorge of wildest grandeur opens up its wonders here ; Look below ! and gazj above us ! was there ever grander sight * Hero is every shade of darkness, here is evory tint of light ; Listen to the torrent roaring in the deep ravine below, See the cataracts descending from their homes among the snow. See the pine and larch and rafca climbing up the mountain walls. Hearken to tho tumbling torrents answering the distant fall?. Woird Otira ! grand Otira ! ia thero any other olimo ! That can phow us such a picture, so entrancing, sosubl'me"; Pown the Gorge and through the va'ley, over I floods that fret and foam, I As they rush among the boulders, hasfc'ning to | their ocean home ; Now the matuhless forests open all their brightness on the scene, And thp gladdened eye is feasting on a hundred tints of green. Wo must leave the lordly forest—" Stay ! oh, stay ! " the wood nymphs sing, " Stay ! oh, stay ! " the fai ies whisper, " Stay ! oh, stay ! " the bell bhds ring. Fancy will not fold her pinions, ouward, onward we must go. Where Mount Cook, in icy armour, guards his pyramids of snow. Fancy can nutwing the lightning, fancy can outwing the windHill and plain and glen and valley soon are left far, f*r behind. We are r« a ting on the high land over New TJdiaa'a town, Wrapt in perfect admiration, looking up and looking down — Upwards at the woodcJ mountains, tinted now by oppnlng day. Downwards at the noble city, stretching undor the lovely bay. One short flight, and we are sailing over Taieri's plains of corn ; Now we cross the lonely ranges, painted by the brush, of morn ; , Wanaka and Manapouri pass before our wondering sight ; Hawea, in sylvan softness, fills aa with a calm delight ; Wakatipu's deep, dark waters, walled by mighty mountains, raise All our highest aspirations, till tho soul is filled with pr&ipe. Hero the poet soou might gather subjects) for a thousand layc, Hero the artist might discover rich employment all his days. God's own country ! God's own country ! we must hasten o'er the sea, Filled with sweetest recollections of thy beauty; blessing thee, Wishing thee all future greatness, bidding thee " Advance ! advance ! " Fruitful land and land of wonders, richest region of romance ! Mitre Peak, crecfc, majestic, alowly vanishes from view, And the distant waves are moaniug, as we cry •<Ad'eu! adieu' 3 ?