RUNANGA.

New Zealand Tablet, 18 September 1919, Page 37

RU NA N GA.

Tho Spring is in Runanga woods, The mating tui calls, Clouds drift above the spires of Grey, And kind rains softly falls. Beyond Otira skies are blue, The “Barber” never blows, And rarely black mists brood above Tho white, unchanging snows. But who would change for dreary plains And lonely, level skies Tho Westland with its verdant woods Where beauty never dies! O tui, tui singing clear, A blessing on your lay! And in Runanga may I find Yourself-another tray. " . — J.K.