The Pigeons' Parliament: a Poem of the Year 1845

William Golder

First published by W. Lyon; Mr. Owen, and by the author in 1854

Digitised and made available online by the University of Auckland Libraries and Learning Services and Auckland War Memorial Museum.

Epub © 2015 Early New Zealand Books Collection

ISBN 978-0-9941199-4-0

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[Cover]

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THE
PIGEONS PARLIAMENT

;

A POEM OF THE YEAR
1845

IN FOUR CANTOS,
With Notes.

"Know'st thou not
Their language and their ways? – They also know,
And reason not contemptibly."
MILTON.

TO WHICH IS ADDED,

THOUGHTS ON THE WAIRARAPA,
AND OTHER STANZAS.

BY
WILLIAM GOLDER ,
Author of "New Zealand Minstrelsy," &c.

WELLINGTON:
W. LYON, LAMBTON QUAY.

HUTT:
MR, OWEN, DRUGGIST, AND BY THE AUTHOR.
1854.

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[PREFACE]

PREFACE.

In again stepping upon the stage of Authorship, and presenting this second attempt at Colonial Literature to the Public of Port Nicholson, it will, perhaps, be expected that some explanation be made upon the article in question, whether or not it may add or subtract from its value. In so doing, the discerning reader I hope will perceive that the Poem throughout is a compound of the satirical, allegorical, and descriptive, with a little sprinkling of the senti- mental added by way of relish. But whether I have succeeded or failed in the composition of such a heterogeneous mass of ingredients – as some cooks might fail in the composition of some unusual and extraordinary dish by making it either too pungent, or too something else, to the taste of this or the other eater – I must leave it, indulgent Reader, for you to determine. But I think I hear some one, who may not have a Dictionary at his; elbow, inquire the meaning of the above-mentioned terms. Excuse me a little, learned reader, while I explain to your less learned brother. Well, then, the "satirical" implies, that some folly, or other misdemeanour, in being censured, is held up to one's view that he might see and condemn in another what perhaps actually belongs to himself; much in the same way, dear Reader, that your mother may have sent you to look into the mirror to convince you that your face required washing.

The "allegorical" is made up in the figures or representations of certain circumstances, and culling

forth the observations and criticisms which some animals might be supposed to make, could they express themselves concerning them. And as for the term "descriptive," I take for granted that it is quite well understood.

In regard to the. "sentimental," this may refer to the sympathies and pathetic feelings displayed, as expressed by those represented as speakers in the course of the Poem.

But, putting all together, the Reader may be informed, that the scope of the Poem is intended as a picture of the Colony as it existed in Port Nicholson previous to the year eighteen hundred and forty-five, contrasted with the character it assumed after the arrival of Sir G. Grey.

It may be asked, why I wrote on such a subject. It so happened one day, when assisting at the building of the Hutt stockade, I was working along with a person who, like myself, was a little acquainted with the "Muse;" during a little conversation, I asked him why he did not compose something on New Zealand; when, with a strong affirmation, he declared he saw nothing in the place worth writing about. I thought differently, but said nothing, as I was at that time amusing myself in my leisure evening's hours, by writing my songs, already published I began shortly afterwards to think of trying a larger piece, when the idea of the "Pigeons' Parliament" struck me so forcibly that I felt as if I could not get rest till it was begun; and no small amusement it gave mo while writing, and I hope the reader will receive no less.

In regard to the Notes, I may here say, that the facts, &c, are merely taken from memory, the result of my own observations and experiences reviewed in retrospect, and what I have read in the public journals – although their particular dates I have forgot, and which cannot now be referred to, as they have, I believe, long been defunct. Yet I may here add, that I was often not a little gratified to bear, at the political discussions which sometimes took place in the Hutt meetings,

previous to the first elections under our present "new Constitution," the most of the substance of the Poem and Notes as it were confirmed by the speakers when referring to past times, and long after both the Poem and chief of the Notes were written, as the greater part of the Poem, to about the middle of the third Canto, was written just before the Maori row, or disturbances in the Hutt; since which the rest has been added, yet referring to the time at which the Poem begins. It may be observed by some, that I have taken no notice of these disturbances, as I might have done; but as the Parliament is supposed to have sat some time previous, it is not to be expected that such could be treated upon by any of the speakers, although some distant hints are given concerning them in a peculiar way.

In regard to "Thoughts on the Wairarapa," it so happened at the time referred to in the Poem I had occasion to be there, and having traversed a good part of it in my journey, by sometimes getting out of the track and losing my shortest road, yet I then could not grumble at what might be called unlucky, even although I had on that account to pass a night, murky and damp as it happened to be, under the shade of a flax-bush, yet I felt not a little compensated by the different views of scenery there abounding, yielding indeed a pleasing sensation to the mind. The hospitality that is offered to strangers I could not but gratefully remark in the settlers on whom I had occasion to call, as I passed along, to inquire my way, and the disappointment one expressed, when I declined passing the remaining part of the day with them, as I was anxious to get a stage farther upon my homeward journey; and when resting at Mr. Donald's on a Sunday, and the following day threatening to storm in the morning, I was prevailed upon to remain – to which I the more readily complied, as a meeting of natives were assembling there to negotiate with Mr. McLean concerning their land – and so, for a little recreation, when walking

out on the plains during the afternoon, in my notebook I gave form to the thoughts I gathered during my progress.

As for the other Stanzas, I do not think they deserve any remark here.

In conclusion, I beg to return thanks to my numerous and respectable Subscribers, for the kindness they have thus afforded in assisting me to bring to light what long lay in darkness, hoping they may not regret the assistance thus afforded. But whether such will add to my credit in their estimation (which I feel as possessing a share, from what I have heard often expressed in regard to my former work, and for which I feel thankful), or detract therefrom, I must leave it to time to declare, assuring my readers that whatever may be unworthy, or otherwise, I acknowledge as being the property only of

Your humble servant,

THE AUTHOR.

River Hutt, April 25, 1854

[CONTENTS]

CONTENTS.

THE PIGEONS' PARLIAMENT –

Canto First........................ 1

Canto Second...................... 15

Canto Third ...................... 36

Canto Fourth...................... 54

NOTES TO Canto I................... 75

............................II................... 80

...........................III................... 83

............................IV................... 85

THOUGHTS ON THE WAIRARAPA........ 90

STANZAS TO MR. JAS. NICHOLSON, Strathaven .......................... 102

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THE PIGEON'S PARLIAMENT. CANTO I.

THE PIGEON'S PARLIAMENT.

A POEM IN IV. CANTOS.

CANTO I.

In eighteen forty-five, in June,
Some time about third quarter moon,
When days were short, and nights were long,
Occurred the subject of this song;
A subject in itself most strange,
But more, to hap' on "Silvan Grange."

Some authors say, and some will write,
That poets can with ease indite,
To all the springs of nature's motions,
And clothe with words a dumb brute's notions;
As easy as a lover can
Draw meanings from his ladies' fan;
Or even read intelligence
In every private squint or glance;
Or knows what may be telegraphed
By winks, or when admired, or scoffed
In silence. – So from upper regions,
We'll hear what's said among the pigeons.

On such a night, as I have said,
When fam'ly all had gone to bed,

By blazing hearth I sat alone,
A musing o'er the day now gone;
I thought on what through day was done,
Which seem'd to close, when scarce begun,
With yet so much to do – no guess, –
To clear away a wilderness,
And that with oft a scanty meal.
As now with sad times forced to deal. –
Next sprung the thought, – Why here I've come,
And left the comforts of sweet home?
Self exiled thus, to prove at least,
A dreary drudge-like slavish beast,
From friendship far, which fain would prove,
A balm to change one's cares to love!
But Fancy, at my woes would smile,
And pleasingly my thoughts beguile,
With – "Why let fortune's frowns thee foil?
Be manly! Love can lessen toil!
And sweeten all the cares of life;
And raise thee 'bove such scenes of strife,
Which would a worldling baffle sore,
And sink him in the mire the more:" –
'Tis truly pleasing to be pleased
With well meant doings; though oft teased
By stubborn fortune, and made sigh
At times by his severity.

Oblivion's veil, next o'er the past
Hope drew with – "Such can't always last!" –
Though future seemed a dreary maze,
With joys half seen through cloudy haze,
Yet still she'd promise, still would cheer
My soul, preplexed 'tween doubt and fear! –
Thus, oft 'midst cares fresh pleasures spring,
Destroying ev'ry baneful sting;
Dispelling gloomy fears the while,
Pleasing as rest is after toil!

Puss, having suppered on a rat,
Now at my feet pleased, purring sat;
As 'twere to bear me company
Thus musing lone; – When lo! on high,

At once was heard a startling sound
Of something strange, all round and round:
Puss took alarm, with pricked up ear,
Look'd round, astonished such to hear.
I wondered what could hap to-night,
Or if my ears were tuned aright;
But more and more the sound increased,
Alarming both to man and beast.
Puss snuff'd about and mewed aloud,
The cause thus asking as she could;
Yet, sure I was, 'twas not the wind;
And thunder was of different kind.
Nor yet the rain upon the roof,
Nor storm, – for that seemed far aloof,
By moonshine bright and azure sky
As lately seen, no change then nigh;
So, to the door, t'expound the doubt,
I went, and cautiously peep'd out,
Like one afraid of some intruder,
Than friendship, who might be much ruder,
As through the place went many a story
Concerning ravages by maori;
But, looking up to my surprise,
A flight of pigeons veil'd the skies
Instead of clouds! They round and round
Flew numberless, with winging sound,
Which seemed the cause of that strange noise
Heard overhead, and gave surprise; –
But what a cooing! – Each seemed greeting,
His fellow welcomed to the meeting,
Like courtiers come to celebrate,
Some festival of highest rate.

Oh! what a shot for pigeon shooters!
A noble prize for bush free booters!
For only shoot, though in the dark,
No danger here to miss the mark:
Or e'en at random like blind Bill,
Who shot, and chanced his duck to kill!
But as for me, I've got no gun,
Besides I'm carless of such fun,

Though from such prejudice could stoop
T' enjoy a dish of pigeon soup!"

Before my cottage, to the right, (1)
There stands a pine of mod'rate height;
Which long has stood the stormy blast;
Unlike the neighbouring rata, cast,
And tossing high its heels in air,
Like mountebank in crowded fair;
Its top by limbs supported strong,
From which great branches stretch along
Whose mazy trimmings high o'er head,
Above my cottage seemed to spread,
Like parasol, held o'er by one,
To sheild it from the noon day sun;
Well, round this pine's great massy top,
Which scarce shew'd having ample scope,
The pigeons wheel'd their noisy flight,
Like juv'nile horsemanship outright;
But still their compass nearer drew,
As round and round their course they flew;
Till all a lodgement got complete,
And close together took their seat;
A mighty mass of feather'd life,
Without the sign of jar or strife!
Those, outside, seemed in case of harm,
To keep look out and give alarm.
Thus watch was set, all round, and high,
All eager danger to descry,
More so, than on the tented ground,
Where sentry oft asleep is found;
So that blest peace, may be possest
In safe enjoyment by the rest,
From night hawks hunting far or round,
Or wingless thunderers aground;
Thus every limb, and branch, and spray
Were loaded, almost to downweigh
Its lofty head!

"Oh! massy pine!
A giant's strength is surely thine!

As much as Atlas, when of yore
This world he on his shoulders bore!
Oh! fail not to bear up thy load,
Of living flesh, come from abroad
To roost on thee! Let Yankees boast
Of tall pines, bending 'neath a host
Of pigeons, – but still bear up thou!
And bend not! – If thou shouldest, I vow
You'll render mine a grevious lot!
And crush to ruins my poor cot!
Aye, more than when the buckateer
Such havock made me t'other year! {2)
They seem determined here to fare,
My efforts mocking them to scare!
May no bad luck me vex this night,
Since still they wont be put to flight."

Miss Porky, now look'd o'er her sty,
Like lady from her window high,
To know the matter of some brawl,
Or answer to her lovers call; –
So she made wonder as was due,
The question grunting, "What's ado?"

"Hush!" pigeon cooed, down looking meek
"Our President's about to speak;"
"What! speak? – about to speak?" said I,
"To hear in silence, I'll comply?"

High on a twig above the rest,
The President with tufted crest,
Sat with all grace, as dignified,
Full of import and kingly pride;
Although in visage somewhat grave,
To whom the rest submission gave;
He rose, and first his wings outspread,
Bow'd! and them folded, and thus said; –
"My friends! and brethren of our race,
In you all confidence we place;
With pleasure too we duly own
Your prompt alligeance to our throne;
This morn we sent our heralds forth,
Through regions, cast, west, south and north,

To bear our loves to you, all greeting!
And call you to this general meeting,
By light of moon; as we thought best,
When thundering troublers are at rest;
Though this hour seem unseasonable,
In eyes of all unreasonable,
Yet this is no conventicle,
For stirring subjects to rebel
Against their prince, as oft is done
In kingdoms t'other side the sun,
As we're informed: – but as for this,
Tis no way against our law of peace!
So, glad we feel to meet you here,
Your joint discussions fain to hear,
Concerning what gives great vexation, –
Even this shooting agitation.
As each, and all of us must feel
An interest in the common weal,
As felt amongst those of other breed,
Who boast themselves for Adam's seed; –
Our murderers! – no other name
Can we bestow them to their shame; –
So, let us try, if can be shewn
Just cause for all this rage, – or known
If aught can be, that may advance
Some scheme for our deliverance.

"Though by them we're accounted meek,
And harmless, yet our lives they seek!
For what? – That we might form supplies
To make up pasties, stews, and pies,
As if they could no longer dine
On flesh of grov'ling brutes called swine!
"{Humph! porky gave, but was unheeded,
For PRESES in his speech proceeded.) (2)
Because they say, our flesh is sweet,
And reckon'd very dainty meat;
Extermination thus assail,
As now our numbers seem to fail;
Instead of which, we ought t'increase,
As we desturb not general peace,

Unlike the kakas' noisy fits, –
Unlike the theivish paroquets, (4)
Which pleasure take in theft, and waste,
Destroying crops which labour cost
The toil worn bushman! – while we dine
Upon the berries of the pine,
Or other forest trees, whose fruits
We gather as the season suits:
While through free air we wing our way
Annoying not where mortals stay;
In all sweet peace we still rejoice;
Nor trouble with discordant voice. –
Thus, can we prove our harmlessness,
To which, our en'mies must confess!

"Now let's enquire, – What is this man?
His nature, and his doings, scan; –
Should he of ancestry still boast, –
Even there, much of his honour's lost:
Besides, our race is somewhat more
Of age than his, – being made before. –
His father, – What was he? – A thief!
And of all sorrows author chief,
Though this earth's Government and trust
Were to him given, yet in the dust
He trampled all authority,
In favour of his vanity;
When with unhallowed daring, he
Stole fruit from the forbidden tree!
Now, he'd with uncurb'd passions rule
Creation's family as his tool!
He most ungovernable! still
The chief inventor of all ill;
And, though of Nature's woes, the cause!
Would dare avenge her injured laws
On other tribes! – Oh! foul distrace!
And more to harm our peaceful race.

"'Ere Pakehas had settled here
From Maories we had nought to fear;
They on their own kind oft did feed,
Preferring theirs, of ours instead;

Because in this, they had less trouble,
While us to take, they were less able;
When quite without that missive thunder,
Which work us death, though erst our wonder! (5)
But sad experience now have changed
To fears such marvel! How deranged
Our minds have been through grief! not less
Than man, when brought to great distress,
Which lie considers not his doin',
Though verging on the brink of ruin!
Our hapless case, thus on us forced,
How can we but forbode the worst?
And now, since Maories sold the land
For such like traffic, what command
Of peace, can we expect? for they
Now look upon us as their prey!
As with infection touched, by those
New comers, adding to our foes! –
No pity! should such baneful fire,
E'er turn against them, with full ire,
Who put such weapons in their hands.
As barter for their ancient lands!

"Though doomed to till the ground for bread,
Wherewith he duly might be fed,
Man spurns the sentence, and makes bold,
On those he governs to lay hold,
And slaughters, though 'gainst mercy's law
To gust his all devouring maw!
Though he o'er all did get dominion,
Was't to destroy? Tis our opinion,
'Twas well to govern and protect
The harmless J He, to shew respect
To Nature's laws! And good example
To others shew, that might them trample
In ravenous contempt! But still
He's foremost in destructive skill
With lust rapacious to devour,
All under his usurping power.
" See! e'en the ox, that gives his strength
To till his ground, must fall at length

To his omnivorous maw a prey;
First fed, then kill'd! – a curious way
To render payment for work done! –
What race of monsters 'neath the sun,
Can be compared to this? – E'en dogs,
And, as reported, slimy frogs,
And other vermin make up dishes
To serve his varied lusts and wishes!
Thus, creatures of earth, sea, and air,
Or wild, or tame, or foul, or fair,
What might be Nature's former plan,
Are eat by all devouring man!
So, how much more, forsooth can we
Contrive to escape such jeopardy?
But such a relish for our flesh,
Of late, has been excited fresh;
While the urgings of some longing wives
Their husbands send to seek our lives!
But what is worse, some evil doers
For us buy favours from their w – – -s!
To satisfy a sinful lust,
Oft fiercely raging to disgust.

"It may be true our flesh is sweet,
To epicurean taste. – Is't meet,
On that account, with such delight,
We should be hunted morn and night,
O'er hill and dale? – Though doctors say,
(And to our bane, but why should they?)
Our flesh contains light nourishment,
Fit for recruiting convalescent,
E'en from the worst disease, – How strange
We must endure to death! – Revenge!
Can that be ours? since harmless, we
Have ever been, all must agree!
But how are we t'endure such harms
Against us levied? – Use of arms
To us unnatural, to withstand
In self defence! – Oh! murderous band,
On our extermination bent,
Oh, were it ever with you Lent!

And you the observers of the fast
We might rejoice, nor be o'ercast
With doleful fears. – But strange the while
In hunting us with no small toil,
To time they shew but small respect,
And other great concerns neglect. (6)
See! labour urgent to be done,
Lies still unheeded, not begun,
In great extent! – Since fleeting time
Makes speed, neglects should be a crime,
Deserving punishment, on those
Who would infringe good Natures laws!
For if they will not sow their seed,
How will they fare in future need? –
Perhaps still hunt us to devour
Our last remains, in evil hour!

"Those precepts too, 'Love one another,'
And 'If smit on one cheek turn t'other,'
Seem made for us, though to them given
As candidates and heirs of Heaven!
But man, to these, pay no regard
As quite unworthy the reward!
Though found to be reputed civil,
He follows Nimrod, or the Divel;
Two mighty hunters of great skill,
And would surpass them with good will f
See! 'mongst themselves they disagree,
While love's o'erruled by jealousy;
And treachery foul, and lawless power,
Stir each his neighbour to devour!
Since man, to brother man thus be, –
What expectations have must we? –
Were e'er such dispositions shewn
To either, in our race, or known?
Or to our author high above,
Have we shewn aught but duteous love?
Or have wo evil deeds done? – strange
T'our natures, as to excite revenge
In breast of lordly man? But vain
Is every hope, we fear, to obtain

From their distructiveness relief
Or respite! – But, we must be brief; –
Let's all consider since we've met
In council, (though it must regret
Give all to learn those sad tidings,)
If we can turn t'advantage things
Which adverse seem; – Sure some can tell
What to his observation fell,
Either from bird, or beast, or man; –
That we might stumble on some plan
Which some deliverance might reveal,
Or guidance give t'our common weal."

Thus closed the President his speech,
Of half hour's length! – a goodly stretch
For Pigeons! – when, with wings abroad
As when he rose, he gently bow'd
To audience full, and so sat down
Like majesty upon his throne.
When all impress'd with gen'ral cause,
Stood up, and coo'd him great applause!

His loving mate, close by his side
Felt much elate, in female pride;
As when, my Lord had something done,
Which heart of Lady-love had won;
Proud of his deeds, and choice she made,
Him flattering, much she feels repaid;
So fondly she carroo'd his praise,
With open bill's distinguished grace,
And wings half ope, bespeaking bliss,
As felt in loves saluting kiss!
Meanwhile, the assembled harmless throng
Consulting were themselves among,
With tittering much, as if they weigh'd
Most duly, all that had been said;
When she, some matter would discuss,
In private ear addressed him thus: –

" My dearest love, as true thou art,
And holds the first place in my heart,
My happiness must be admitted,
At seeing how thou hast acquitted

Thy self, and didst not overreach
Thy audience, with thy tedious speech;
Though to the facts brought forth, most true
Attention certainly was due.
But what the most affects my mind,
Is what was said of woman kind; –
For, can't be true, that they should long
To feed upon our darling young?
Have they ne'er young ones of their own,
Whom harm they can't see come upon?
Whom they in warm affection nourish,
And feel it pleasure them to cherish?
If such they have, can't be that they
Permit their appetites to sway
O'er reason, of which much they boast,
As if all consciousness were lost? –
I wonder if their ruling Queen,
In all her majesty serene,
Can of such passions be possessed,
Like those of subjects, unrepressed,
Perhaps, she's of superior mould,
As brass inferior is to gold?
Though in their form she bears controul,
She yet may have a seraph's soul!
Akin to our known innocence!
So, as to rise in our defence,
If she our woeful case but knew,
And thus our enemies subdue!"

"My dearest love!" said he, carrooing –
Her sorrows with a kiss subduing,
"Our case, indeed's replete with woe,
While dangers much we undergo,
Yet what I've hinted towards woman,
Is nothing but what's true and common;
For wives that can their husbands rule,
Will make them to their lusts a tool," –

When painters would a picture draw,
Whereon, perchance, appears some flaw,

To mar its beauty, they'll devise
To hide defects, some artifice:
Such as some posture, when the spot
With finger placed upon't, may not
Be seen; or if with tasteful care,
It may be hid with ringlets fair,
Which, though appearing as to fall
With graceful flow, yet covering all
Unseemliness, and adding quite
Fresh beauties, to the piece despite
All else considered; or an eye
By nature formed to look awry,
Which might a pleasing picture spoil,
Then, be it drawn three parts profile
(By which means one may well suppose,
That squinter would be hid by nose!)
As looking at some object where
The organ's turned: – 'Tis thus, with care,
A poet should, if possible,
Where no advantages can tell,
To hide defects, in what he hears,
Nor let his muse jar in the ears
Of delicacy, (though oft meet,
Truths to declare, bitter or sweet,
As such occur) – nor yet take part,
With babblers in his sacred art,
Transforming blessings to a curse,
As, good to bad, from that to worse;
For President had got too rough,
In saying more than quite enough,
About the frailties of the sex,
He should have tried the least to vex;
He, being piqued, much at the thought
Of evils on his interest brought
By wanton ones! and to descry
Much leniency and charity
To them display'd by his dear mate, –
Judging, she should support his hate
Condemning, which, made him enlarge,
Expounding the grounds of the charge

Brought forth. – But which we here suppress
To spare aught of uncomeliness.

"Aye! brave is he that can defy
Such overbearing tyranny!" –

" Carroo!" said Lady President, –
Him interrupting, as he went
On almost fired into oration; –
"I can't my love with approbation
Hear all you've said! because, how wide
You wander as your self beside!
Since me, you rank in the same gender,
I must retaliation render,
How much according to the tenor
Of your address, were you complainer
Of your as lustful masc'line sex?
Who ev'ry day our feelings vex,
With the sad loss of some dear friend!
As, of our race, they'd make an end;
Whose glory, and how base 'tis still,
Seems resting in, how much they'll kill!"

[END OF CANTO FIRST.]

CANTO II.

CANTO II.

Thus PRESIDENT and's loving mate,
In converse strengthening to debate,
The while engaged, like wedded pair,
Who honey-moon had passed so fair,
When sweet confab somehow deranged
For first into a brawl had changed,
Though well begun; – had herald now
Not silence called (his trust) t'allow,
Due audience to the speaker rising,
As all engaged were, much advising
In titt'rings and loud whisperings
Among themselves concerning things
Of int'rest deep So he in brief
Stood up amidst. First to his chief
He honours made, then to the rest
All round, whom Cropper thus addressed

"Hail, noble Sire! of high degree,
And come of ancient pedigree,
We own submission to your will,
And thus your high behests fulfil,
Not less than human when they give,
As when superiors own'd receive
Respect or honour; – rev'rence due
As loyalty we offer you.

"This morn I first with pleasure heard
Your sov'reign will to all declared,
So I've in common with the rest,
This opportunity embraced
To meet your most distinguished grace,
In your appointed time and place,
And with attention's due regard
Your most pathetic speech have heard,
Which cannot but in all excite
One common feeling to unite

With yours our int'rests and concerns;
While every one for safety yearns:
Though hard I fear it is to plan
Escape from all devouring man;
For he, us all traditions say,
Is open-mouth'd to catch all prey,
As ravens are. So he is led
By powerful passions, causing dread,
To harmless ones, or fiercer other,
And oft would he devour his brother!

"But, Sire, I need not tread the same
Ground trod by you, or make declaim
Like those who favour seek by rant,
Or act the fawning sycophant;
For then I'd be intruding high,
Upon the heels of majesty.
For special thine, nor does belong
To kindred those of cricket song,
While independence breathes throughout,
Thy speech so free from faltering doubt!
But as you've willed so I'll narrate
What from a friend I've heard of late,
A friend indeed of kindred near,
Though from the other hemisphere.
"Well so it happ'd some time agone,
I on a journey sped alone,
Alone indeed with heart full sore,
My mate being killed the day before.
Fatigued, upon a buckateer
I perched which stood the wayside near,
Upon Te Aro Tot'ra Line
(Which natives from its trees define),
Reflecting on my lonely state,
I mourned the loss of my dear mate,
As mankind too have fondly wooed,
The lone retreats of solitude,
That there in peace they may give vent
To wounded feelings in lament;
So from my woes I sought relief,
Thus pouring out my painful grief, –

"Woe's me! I'm quite undone, and fain
Would fly my sorrows, to regain
Sweet peace as wont, but whether can
I fly t'escape that hunter man. – Alas! the joys I felt beside

My love, my lately wedded bride,
How soon evap'rating to air,
They've gone and plunged me in despair. –
Oh! dear me, still I feel the shock
I felt, when 'mongst the nauseous smoke,
She lifeless dropped quick from my side: –
How short the pleasures we enjoy'd!
Conversing over future joys,
Until me thought I felt the ties
Of love, patern,' to future young,
Around my heart entwining strong;
But this how blasted! Now the nest
Is cold and comfortless. My best
Though future hopes and joy's are gone,
The eggs unhatched lie addled. Lone
And cheerless thus bereaved of all
I mourn. What more grief can befall
Even man himself, when made to sigh
O'er loss? – Alas! where can I fly.

I paused to sigh, and happened
Somewhat aside to turn my head,
When lo! to me a welcome sight,
I spied my friend in purest white,
Unknowing come in unawares
As sent to free me from my cares;
So on the road she sat intent
To feed from horses excrement.
I softly cooed – she heard, and round
She quickly looked whence came the sound.
I courage took; first hopp'd in view
Then down beside her straight I flew;
We either gave friendship's salute,
Nor in wellwishes were we mute.
I praised her robes of purest white,
My green coat too gave her delight;

Thus friendship grew! – My heart though pain'd
Grew cheerful as her love I gain'd;
She kindly ask'd me to partake –
Though I complied, t'was for her sake;
I tasted, but no relish had
For such, though could not call it bad;
Said I "though to this kind unused
Small mercies ne'er should be abused
Nor need I hold your taste in scorn,
Though voided, still I find 'tis corn."

"'Tis true," said she, 'though through a horse
"T' has come methinks I've fared on worse;
For in the country whence I came,
A horse's food is not the same;
Or else they better chew their food,
Which proves this one's teeth were not good,
Because, I've seen us glad to feed
On other, and more naughty seed,
Though owned by a most noble lord." –

"Indeed!" said I – "He might afford
A better living sure than this;
For rich he must have been I guess
By such a title. But may hap
That was good reason for escape,
And who could blame? – as 'tis one's care
If starved at home to seek else where."

"That may be true," said she, "but still
You aim awry. Pray let me tell –
For as you know by nature we
Are strangers to duplicity –
My lord was father of a son,
Who'd heedless through all folly run,
No matter what: – his mother would
Him grant more than his sire allow'd,
Which soon was spent 'twixt whores and wine,
Horseracing, Gambling, till in fine
He had become so much the sot, v
As soon the family name to blot.
His mother died through shame and grief;
His sire no more would grant relief

To all his bills; – and charged with rape
Most narrowly he made escape,
An exile to this foreign clime, –
Self doom'd, a vagabond of crime.
So nature teaches – 'Those that spurn
The laws of virtue, in return
Deprive themselves of happy peace,
And purchase misery 'stead of bliss!'
I was his pet; – he swore by all,
That's good or bad, what might befall,
How I should bear him company
Where'er he roamed by land or sea.
So caged, submissive to my fate,
I've thus been forced to emigrate.
Though me my master much did love,
And called his dearest fav'rite dove,
And for a time me fed with care,
Nor would permit me forth elsewhere,
Yet he to foolish habits bound,
And all his hopes for good unsound,
He squandered soon his father's gift –
(A shameless prodigal adrift! – )
In revelry; besides, a whore
He kept, soon turn'd him to the door,
Robbed and despoiled of all he had:
Well pounded, blue beat, and most glad
T'escape with life. Now he must toil,
As menial wretch a neighbour's soil;
To work though unaccustomed – glad
To earn his scanty crust of bread;
While me, through want, forced to dismiss,
So now I've come to dine on this."

"Bless me!" said I, "'tis passing strange
That such as he should meet such change;
Although, no doubt, he is to blame,
As author of his woes and shame:
But that his punishment should reach
Thee, whom with ill none can impeach.
Me overcomes. Should'st thou agree
To company me to yon pine tree,

I'll entertain thee with fresh food.
Becoming more, and quite as good
As this, or aught such like. Besides,
I fain would learn how it betides
Our race in country whence you've come;
For here on life we can't presume
A moment, but in danger live
From thundering wretches who receive
No harm from us. But they perchance
May all he as your master. Hence,
We may infer their ravenous need,
And thirst for blood are past remede.
They cling to life from hungers claws,
Like drowning man who grasps at straws
For safety. So their maw's complaint,
May make the devil in the saint
Rise rampant to devour, as we
Were doom'd their prey. – "

"'Tis sad," said she,
Shaking her head in pensive mood,
Considering what to say for good;
When thus she spoke – "Your leave, I crave,
Your invitation kind to wave;
As I'm unused 'mong trees to rove,
New fruits to me might physic prove,
As this ye would unsavory deem –
While to my mate 'twould ill beseem.
So here we can converse as well
As on a tree. Besides, to dwell
Thus low, by harm we'll least be found,
For shooters seldom look aground,
But always upward as to sky,
Their prey amongst the boughs to spy;
Good reason why we here might sit
In safety, bent on converse fit;
As ye've desired, so I'll explain
In short, as time hastens amain
For my return, lest my dear mate
I overtire by being late,
Now hatching for me while abroad,
I thus have come in search of food.

"Dear ma'am," said I, ye're truly kind,
Which gives me joy; though now my mind
Feels pained in grief, because of late
I've lost, by being shot, my mate,
Whom I can ne'er forget, but mourn,
And fear sweet peace shall ne'er return: –
But pray proceed, let me all hear,
Which might my drooping spirits cheer."

"With you, said she," "I sympathise
In all the warmth of friendship's ties;
So, as you're willing to give heed,
And as I've promised, I'll proceed. –
I was, as I before have said,
Own'd by a noble lord indeed,
Who was a man of high repute
With num'rous retinue to boot,
And 'mong the rest a servant had,
Whose business was to have us fed,
And well attended to; likewise,
We had a tower of lofty size,
In which to live! should I presume,
Its walls for whiteness vied those plumes,
(She looking at her snowy breast
As with remembrance much impress'd)
It hundred doors had round and round,
Through which admittance hundreds found.
To each his place; while harmony
Reigned over all in mutual joy."

"Oh! happy state," I cried, and peace
Abounding, so would joy increase,
Methinks, there void of every care –
I wish I could such bounty share.

"Yes," she replied, "'tis not all gold
That glitters, as I've oft heard told,
Though we all lived in unity,
Nor discord knew to break the tie
Of love existing, yet were vexed
Sometimes – in mystery much preplexed;
Wond'ring how neighbours disappeared,
Of whom we no more after heard,

Till once the lot had fall'n on me,
Which put my life in jeopardy –
But I'll explain the reason why: –

"Our keeper chanced to be a maid
In years, who ne'er a lover had,
Yet full of vanity and hope,
With youth and beauty would she cope
In gay attire of silks and furs,
At church and market, feats, and fairs,
To court admirers, showing off,
Exciting more the jeering laugh;
Bathed in perfume, her rotten breath
Smell'd nauseous; while she grinn'd like death

A ghastly smile when looking pleased, –
Then gums shone out, of grinders eased,
Save rotten stumps, I think, but two. –
While nose gave chin a how d'ye do.
With borrow'd ringlets she'd disown
Her natural, which grey had grown.
In short her leathern wrinkled face
'Midst frills and curls made strange grimace
"T'was wonder'd how she had resource
To such, or if she had a purse,
Which to believe some were inclined
When counting up her fees, to find
The bravery she abroad did wear,
Beyond her wages' purchase clear.
This gossips found, who are deep known
In all affairs except their own.
The truth was this; – The corn she got
With which to feed us, our due lot,
She call'd it waste, but took all heed
To hoard it for some selfish need.
Then sold it to a neighb'ring stabler
That thereby she might be the abler
To deck her awkward form – 'Twas thus
We learn'd content, glad to discuss
A meal where't could be found, as this; –
But often did she more amiss,

By nightly stealth; – when all asleep,
She to our dormit'ries would creep,
And seize some unsuspecting sleeper,
Like fox at henroost, yet no deeper
Could be its wiles, for ever there
Oft acting fox she took her share,
As eggs and pullets went away,
And how? 'Twas all a mystery!
But oft she blamed the neighbouring cats,
And dogs, and oft the pilf'ring rats,
Though she was chief. Whilst Willy Cadger,
Was always sure to hold the charger,
To such misdeeds – -his greed of gain,
Supporting all her whims so vain;
She, serpent-wise, strangely retained
The family's favours, and still gained
On their esteem – as full of worth
Industrious, honest, and so forth;
Decent and cleanly, though in years, –
While she with flatt'ry pleased their ears,
In recompence for their good will: –
Thus playing on their harp with skill
She served her ends though base. But now
Of my adventure I'll tell how."

"One morning as I walked about,
The base old hag me pointed out.
And vow'd I was a pretty dove,
Saying it did me now behove,
To serve a present need for lace; –
Thought I, such things should quite disgrace,
Her years, to say nought of the deed,
When home-spun plainness should instead,
Of empty gew-gaws serve. But much
It pain'd me how to escape her clutch,
Or act defensive. When to mind
Recalling, once she was inclined
To have a cock, which she pursued
Till he within a corner stood;
Enraged, his feather's stood on end,
As bent his honor to defend;

She thought him her's; he, though in fright,
To escape determined, or to fight, –
She made to catch, but up he rose,
And pecked her sadly on the nose,
And o'er her shoulder flew once more,
When gladly she the chace gave o'er. –
To play such parts methought I might
Make failure, so I took to flight.
But little thought I of her deep
Designs to take me when asleep.
So closing day had called us home,
When all seek rest, or cease to roam,
Save thieves for plunder who employ,
The night, like other beasts of prey.
I, much fatigued, took to my nest,
There in repose to seek sweet rest,
Unconscious of disturbing harm,
And dreading nought to give alarm;
Till stealthy she with candle glare,
Sought out my place. Well, come my fair!
She said, – and quickly on me seized,
And hastily waddling off, well pleased
She bore her prize; whilst 'neath her arm
Confined, I trembled in alarm,
For fear'd result, no less than might
A captive savage from a fight
By victor led, and bound like beast
Doom'd to be sacrificed, a feast.
Thus to her house, where did await
Another hag she brought me straight,
To whom I was for ninepence sold,
Who soon for me the pittance told,
A sorry price: – then stood to chat
On friendly terms, 'bout this and that,
As each, well pleased with either's dealing,
Rejoiced in gossip, nought concealing,
Of human weakness, save their own,
And that for virtue setting down.
As thus they talked, and laugh'd well pleased,
My owner's hold got somewhat eased;

I courage took, escape in view,
In bold attempt right off I flew.
They scream'd aloud, me fright'ning more,
As round the house, I sought the door;
So in pursuit in breathless haste,
To catch me round the floor they paced,
I 'gainst the cupboard struck, – when smash
Cups, plates and glasses down did dash,
With sonorous sound, like old crack'd bell,
In church-spire making solemn knell,
At funeral. Our beldame scream'd
In rage, though I no sport it deem'd,
But freedom sought, – I, next, upon
A mirror struck, where candle shone,
Which from the wall down dashed, – but no
Outlet there; – fluttering to and fro
Hard followed, I flew o'er a shelf,
Where bottles stood and other delf,
Which down came clam'rous on the floor,
And raised another wild uproar,
Of ruin, ruin, and lost wine! –
For such I did no more incline
Than she, but to escape her clutch.
Such mischief done provoked her much,
So, that with tongs she aim'd a stroke,
At me, but, missing, struck clock,
Which on the wall click, clicking hung,
Which down came smashed – thus helping wrong
By her own rage; while I made pass
Perchance right bolt through window glass! –
How glad I felt, and could compare
Nought with peace, freedom, and fresh air.
Feeling at large, and unpursued,
Upon a high hay stack which stood,
Short distance off, and opposite
From whence escaped, I did alight,
The first accommodation fit,
Where I unseen could pass the night
Still fearful lest more danger might
Succeed, I look'd round – saw all right;

But scarce had set myself to rest,
When lo! a noise of tongues arrest
Did my attention. – 'Twas a change
From friendship to a war most strange
Of wicked words and noisy strife,
Loud raging as 'twixt death and life,
This, would her ninepence back demand,
Swore my escape the other plann'd,
As on the top of clock I sat,
Where easily I could have been caught. –
The other like a demon yell'd
In rage, as round her she beheld
Her china cups and glasses broke,
Lost wine, smashed plates, and ruin'd clock,
Most vexing, scattered o'er the floor, –
While the demand provok'd her more;
When "Death and fury!' – she bawled out,
Or rather scream'd with yelling shout, –
"You are in fault by losing hold,
You randy – – -, you drunken scold:
You say, I planned it! – by my faith,
You leave my house or meet your death!
See what I've lost by you ye wretch,
Is't not enough? – your eyes I'll scratch!" –
With that, a kind of scuffling fight
I heard, full worse than cats at night,
For screams of madd'ning rage, which made
The watch dog growl and bark like mad. –
Now faithful John, on message sent,
Upon the scene right in he went;
The scuffling noise then ceased apace,
And both at once would state a case,
"One at a time!" he cried, - but both
To give each other place were loath;
But my old keeper, by the bye,
Most eagerly trimm'd off a lie,
To hide her fault. – She vengeful swore,
"This came in drunk with wild uproar.
Demanding wine which I refused,
So see how I have been abused! –

Oh! ho, ho, ho!!" – While t'other stood
To truth, to make her case more good,
Her cursing for the greatest liar,
That e'er deserved the devils fire,
Calling on John to smell her breath,
If groggy she would meet her death. –
John, much perplexed, which to believe,
Yet thought our keeper would deceive;
"When rogues fall out," said he, "'tis known
That honest folk will have their own;
At present part, nor add to sorrow,
But come and settle things to-morrow."
My buyer took the hint most fit,
But vow'd full vengeance on her yet.
John sympathised, yet gave reproof,
Made known his message, and came off.

Thus left alone, amid the wreck
I made her, and much disrespect
Of conscience, she had no control
O'er passion, as she thus made dole. –

" Oh dear me! for this night of grief,
And of destruction done me; chief
And worst of all to be found out
By John, I hate, – who without doubt,
Will make report of all he saw,
And heard from that vile woman's jaw,
And so have me turned out of place,
And brought to ruin and disgrace,
In years! – Oh! ho, ho, ho! – my due,
Woe's my poor heart, what shall I do?
Oh, ho dear! – and her ladyship
And misses too, who used to skip,
About me fain, like lambs at mom,
Now me they'll hold in utmost scorn, –
How can I – ho, ho – show my face,
Or screen myself from this disgrace? –
And my young lord – how he will storm,
And volley oaths of every form
Upon me; that I e'er should dare
Steal his own dove, which he'd compare

To none! – Oh! curse this sad mishap, –
What devil led me to this step? –
Instead of blond lace – find my ruin
In recompense for such misdoing."

Thus she her litany of woe,
Oft bubbled o'er, – while oh, ho, ho!
Was still the burthen of her theme,
Condemning self, as did beseem
Due penitence – but more this fear,
To have at last her wild career
Cut short, and met with due resent
Of foul disgrace and punishment.

Tired of her dole, I could not keep
Much longer watch, so went to sleep;
And slept till some time in the morn,
When rous'd by herdboy's tooting horn,
Like lordship often overlate,
Dosing a summer's morn till eight;
But recollecting how I there
Had come, and last night's strange affair,
I happy felt, as well I might;
Then looking round I saw all right,
And mate beside the doorway sitting,
His feathers trimming up and fitting.
I hasted to him, – told him all,
And how I made escape withal,
He wondered, and with much ado,
Gave sweet salute, with fond caroo.

"Well so he might," said I delighted,
With her narration thus recited,
Nor could I but congratulate,
Her grand escape from cruel fate.
And also much of int'rest take,
In her confab, for learning's sake;
To know if in her native place,
Justice were granted to our race, –
Said I, "Good fortune has rescued
Thy carcase safe from being stewed.
In soups or pies, when sold for lace
Thy keeper bringing to disgrace

(As I was given to understand,
She was dismissed with reprimand:)
But are all classes, I enquired,
So cared for, whether they're retired
By nature – undomesticated; –
As those, 'mid lordly scenes located?
Because, said I, such does concern,
Our race here, so I beg to learn."
At which she pondered, looking grave,
Then kindly thus in answer gave.

"Some I believe do live abroad,
Like others in a common mode,
Inhabiting the mountain glen,
And forests far from haunts of men,
Like hermits lonely and unknown,
Who, owning nought, are owned by none
Or like yourself, ere here we came,
Existing solely savage game;
The diff'rance is, they are protected
By laws the nation's chief directed
For gen'ral benefit, the same
To them as t'other's by proclaim. –

For instance, once a timid hare,
Fell foul unhapp'ly of a snare. –
A poor man happening to pass
Discover'd puss in hopeless case,
Which made him thus bethink himself, –
"Unfortun'tely my better half,
Lies sick at home. Now, certainly,
Good fortune has led me this way,
Where something I might find to cheer
My bedrid love": – so he drew near,
Made puss his own with the fond hope,
Of treating wife with sav'ry soup.
No sooner than he owned his prize,
When quick his lordship him espies,
Had him pursued and pris'ner made
Nor would show mercy, though for't prayed.
But strict, pursuant to the laws,
Condemned him for no other cause!

On some one of these south sea isles.
In penal bondage now he toils,
From borne and hapless family torn; –
His sick wife pin'd and died forlorn:
Four orphans left without a friend,
Victims of av'rice! – How 'twould rend
A heart of stone to hear their woes,
The effect of what are call'd – game laws."

"Oh, cruel, cruel!" I exclaimed,
"Are such the kind of laws proclaim'd
By Majesty? for the defence
Of others, who give much offence,
Blasting the careful peasant's hopes,
By much destruction caused to crops,
As done by paroquets and rats,
And other vermin but for cats!
Methought the laws ye hinted at.
Were of a different kind; more pat,
With justice and discretion, than
One should oppress his fellow man.
At least, I thought them such as this, –
That all should deem it great disgrace,
To take another's life in sport,
Like those that roam to do us hurt!
Or desp'rate gamblers, who for strife
Would stake 'gainst this, or tother's life
Their all; and them to bloody fight
Compel: – Of such I had a sight. –
Two cocks at war, they knew not why,
Their owners urgent, standing by
Exciting cruel passion! – shame!
To such who'd even own that name. –
And, thought that virtue should increase;
That harmless tribes might live in peace! –
For, that is all our race requires;
And here, if even such desires
Could be obtained, – we'd happy feel
Nor would due gratitude conceal!

Said she, – "This life's with hopes and fears
Made up; and changing smiles and tears

Pervade creation! so tis vain
To wish we might all good obtain
Unmix'd with ill. Bird beast and man
Must bend submissive to the plan
Of overruling fate; cares unforseen,
And unavoidable I ween
Befall us oft, when we receive
Amid our joys some cause to grieve;
But soon forget; – call sorrow vain!
And then we feel rejoiced again! –
But now our time of parting's nigh
With your leave I must bid good bye."

"Pray hold!" said I, as she would rise, –
"One question more I would advise;
But not upon your time t'entrude,
Or keep you from your mate so good:
Lest of your stay he anxious be,
While thus your converse gladdens me;
So, can you tell me of the cause
Of all this thund'ring brought to pass
I know not how? – but this I'm sure,
I never heard the like before;
For even now, though distant be
That loud report, it frightens me.

"Oh! ah!" said she, and shook her head,
"Strange things of late have come abroad,
Because, I heard my master say
Unto a neighbour tother day,
He saw in what is call'd the news –
A printed paper I suppose, –
Where things are published old and new,
And often false, as well as true! –
But what he said, as upon oath
I do believe it as good truth;
He said, – the ruling governor (2)
Has gone some ten degrees, or more,
Astray lunatic, in his care
To please the savage! – Now, a war,
As thanks for all his good, has brought
Upon himself! – He little thought

Of such returns, though the comments
Of all the other settlements,
On him their warnings nothing spared; –
Yet, for their weel he nothing cared
Even though devour'd by cannibal! –
No matter, so they don't rebel
Against his new taxation schemes,
And other whimsical day dreams,
Dishonouring the British crown! –
Yet purchasing himself renown
For folly lunacy and pride,
Pragmatic shifts, and wand'ring wide
From aims and ends! – so now, in fears,
He calls the aid of volunteers
To help him to undo what's done,
And keep the savage bouncers down;
Who'd take advantage of misrule,
And prove how much he acts the fool! –
Like too indulgent sire, undone
B'a pamper'd, spoil'd, ungrateful son! –
But now makes strenuous endeavour
To punish whom he most did favour: (3)
While those, on whom he would impose
His burdens, and hold by the nose,
Have faithful been! and neer turn'd backs
On him in need, though gall'd by tax.
So, hearing of the bloody fray
That lately happ'd at Island's bay,
And either to defend his cause,
Or heal the breach he made in laws,
Or dreading danger may attend
Them next, and anxious to defend
Their lives and property from rage
Of savage, eager for pillage!
Who, (hearing what at Kororariki
Have been achieved by Honi Heki,)
Like ravens pouncing on their prey,
When one attempts, may think all may! –
To know what's what, I've no pretence
Wither his cause, or self defence;

But one thing's clear, – a compact plan
Is made 'twixt lord and lab'ring man.
The Lords for safety condescend
To own each lab'ring hind his friend;
While poor men out of other ploy,
The rich man's favour glad t'enjoy,
Would for a trifle aught perform,
Ev'n though 'twere to his lasting harm!
Thus they have taken up the song (4)
Of landlords claims postpon'd so long;
To have the original possessors
At once expell'd as their distressors;
Yet were truth on their minds to burst,
I fear they'd find the lords the worst.
How'ver, 'twixt governor and all
Is truly raised a strange cabal,
Whether alarms be false or true
Yet all of wars make much ado,
And know not what to be about
More than for foes keep good look out.
Thus all alike impress'd with fears
From rumours spread have volunteers
Become! While erring Governor,
Fond to redeem lost character,
Bestows the privates lib'ral pay
In kingly eighteen-pence a day!
At this, the drunken and the wretched
Are charmed so, as to seem bewitched;
The lazy up his ears now prick,
From work the lab'rer cuts his stick,
And sweating sawyers leave the saw,
And shoulder arms to enforce the law;
Hoping the job might never cease, –
"Long live the wars! a fig for peace!" –
So long's no skirmish happens here (5)
But fing'ring pay and keeping cheer.
The gloomy tradesman too looks bland,
With one fist rubbing t'other hand,
And shrugging shoulders up, he said, –
"Tis thus a re-embursement's made

Of taxes oft from us exacted, (6)
By laws of self serve end enacted,: –
Content, though in debenture trash,
Poor substitute for honest cash;
With debtor's promise, very willing
That year old pounds give birth t'a shilling.
Trade looks on't as a heav'nly favour,
While catching pounds is all th' endeavour;
Thus bustling, making up arrears,
All cry, "Long life to volunteers!"
But haughty landlords fret and frown,
Who used to grind poor lab'rers down
By cheat'ry, and I know not what else,
As spiders prey on poor fly's vitals.
Now scarce of cash and want of hands,
They cannot meet increased demands
For wages; and their work behind –
They call for help; but not inclined
A whit are those of mushroom blues
To lend a band: – while each pursues
The course his wild run fancy leads,
Like asses sportive o'er rich meeds,
Well fed and little else to do; –
And full of self importance too;
Fond of their guns, as little boys
Are pleased with their more harmless toys,
With which they fainly soldiers ape –
So glad from labour made escape:
Like kennell'd dogs let loose, for fun
Those volunteers as licensed run
Through bush and clearing searching for ye
Full of the thoughts of shooting maori;
Proud of a chance to try their skill
No matter whether miss or kill:
Yet such are useful you must own
To keep your savage bouncers down.
But some more careful in their aim
Determined on a double game;
As having booty more to please
A lady love to gain her grace,

And some possess'd of longing wives
Are urged abroad to seek your lives.
And bring your carcases t'appease
Some cravings ever hard to please.
Tis these I dare say, makes you wonder
Why thus, so much destructive thunder,
Pervade even to the inmost shade,
By which thou hast been mateless made;
But hark! – There's firing somewhat near,
So lest we be discovered here,
I must begone, before too late,
As anxious I'm to join my mate:
So pray excuse," – she said, and light
She rose and soon was out of sight.
I also took the hint, and made
Escape into the thickest shade,
And was about, being left alone,
Anew my sorrows to bemoan
When suddenly I overheard
Thy summons, Sire, duly declared.
Accordingly I've come, and thus
Made known each subject of discuss
From first to last. Could I but feel
Grateful, as nought she did conceal
Of information asked? – but chief,
And most, the cause of all our grief;
Of which you all may judge as meet
As now I beg to take my seat."

Thus Cropper his rehearsal closed,
To which, attention, most composed,
Was paid by all, as any maori
Sits list'ning drinking in a story,
With all the gesture and grimaces
By which relators show their graces, –
When – "coo! carroo! carro o! coo, coo!
All shouted, showing much ado
In twaddling, as in great applause
They labour'd, such th'excitement was.

[END OF CANTO SECOND. ]

CANTO III.

CANTO III.

By this, the moon had gained her height,
And reigned the peerless queen of night,
In all her radiant majesty,
Amid a clear unclouded sky;
And seem'd, as she an influence shed
O'er stars around, as if they'd dread,
'Gainst her their puny lights to bear, –
Or rather, wishing to confer
On her the greatest honour, they
Had stoop'd obesience to her sway.
She, looking from her ebon throne,
Improvements viewed, and smiled upon
The bushman's clearing, and the change
Wrought on the wilderness, so strange,
For ages useless, now subdued,
Adorned with springing grain, which shew'd
Fair promises, – though stumps still stood
The ghosts of bygone ages rude,
Like tombstones, which would dead deplore,
So they, the forest now no more.

My cottage, buried in the shade,
Which the great spreading pine had made,
Through whose close crowded top, a ray,
Of moonshine scarce could find its way.
Dark as a dungeon where I stood,
Near to my door in wondering mood,
With anxious face turn'd upward, as
I fain unriddle would the cause
Of some more ominous eclipse, –
'Ere times of science did elapse;
Than what was made by pigeon's bent,
On holding farther parliament.

Meanwhile, in private argument,
Each, with his neighbour, seem'd intent,
To find the speaker's meaning out,
Endeavouring to resolve each doubt;

Turning the matter round and round,
And inside out, that might be found
Somewhat to alleviate their distress,
Or clear a seeming hopeless case:
As little politicians strive,
In dark futurity to dive,
To search for what, pigs scarce would nozzle,
To whom most rare the greatest puzzle,
So each much rack'd his little wit.
On some expedient blest to hit: –
This, wondered much if such a flock,
Could sum the courage of one cock,
And fly in face of persecutors,
Defensive, 'stead of standing neuters.
In the common right of pigeons,
Of enjoying the upper regions; –
That, wondered if to emigrate,
Would prove a salvo to their fate;
But, "Whither could we go?" thought some,
"Where sure to find a better home?"
While others, wondered if conditions,
Could be effected by petitions;
But most allowed 'twould raise more evil,
Like asking mercy from the devil.

Thus, each employ'd what little sense,
He had, like man in deep suspense,
Consulting, though on no conclusion
Had fix'd; but is in more confusion
Deep plunged, and knows not what to do! –
When Trumpeter, with loud carroo!
Demanded silence: –

...............Then arose,
One Fantail, who, first to compose,
Some feather's, ruffled on his breast,
With bill began, until the rest,
Had settled down in peace, – like, what? – -
"Good Sir," adjusting his cravat,
To stir a latent courage up,
Till audience is received, with hope,

That, what he is about t'advance,
May prove some good; or may perchance,
Be well received. Fantail thus waited,
Due silence: – so was soon abated
The general converse which prevailed;
Himself of audience he availed,
Now duly given, but first addressed
Allegiance; then bow'd to the rest,
And thus began: – – – -

............"The other night,
Belabour'd with fatigue and fright,
From strange like thunders from below,
Which upward shoot, and work us woe
Unspeakable – besides the smoke
Pois'ning the air, enough to choke
A host at once, with sulph'rous stench –
Made hard escape; I sought to quench
In cooling stream my burning thirst,
Then, out of danger's way to rest,
I sought to fold my weary wing,
On lofty pine. But oh! a sting
I 'gan to feel in beating breast,
Unfelt before, disturbed my rest;
And when I looked by the moonlight,
How I was like to faint with fright,
On seeing blood: – Alas! I sighed,
What sad mishap can thus betide
A harmless creature, such as I,
Now doom'd to suffer thus? Or why
Are peaceful pigeons to such ills,
Subjected so? Or he that kills
Us all day long, not visited
With stripes upon his guilty head,
For such his wickedness? Or are
We only made to fit for war,
Sharp shooters training to the life,
Of working death? Oh cruel strife!
That sets one creature 'gainst another,
Or urges man to kill his brother!

Whence art thou? – sprung ye from the hand
Of Him who made us, whose command
Was prosper and increase? Oh no!
Ye've more the nature of a foe,
Than of a friend! – a friend gives joy!
But thy delight is to destroy.
Alas! thou cause of every evil,
Hast transformed man into a divel!
That we in peace no more can dwell;
And given him the tools of hell,
To do the divel's work. Alas!
How can we fathom the sad cause,
Of all this mischief upon earth? –
Which else might be a place of mirth
And happiness: Ah! woe is me!
That e'er I should such evils see
On kindred, and great loss of friends
I'll meet no more! It truly rends
My trembling heart to think of peace
Departed! When shall sorrows cease!" –

I wept, I sighed, my breast gave pain,
I look'd – I sighed, and wept again,
Deploring such misfortunes, till
O'erpowered by drowsy sleep. But still,
Was fancy actively awake,
Pourtraying things, which made me quake
With fearful apprehension, as
The last of days had come to pass. –
Methought I saw a sight most dire,
A creature live by spitting fire!
And most unsightly, was hung round
With pigeons dangling to the ground! –
I shrunk with horror at the sight
And powerless felt, nor could make flight:
Till by a night owl's wildest scream,
I woke! felt glad it was a dream!
Right overhead; where I was sleeping,
Another seemed in merry keeping.
Ogling the moon he loud did croak,
His humorous ditty of "more pork."

"What ails thee, Bob?" at length he cried, –
I look'd, and soon the pair espied
Upon a neighbouring branch, quite near,
And could their conversation hear:
For Bob, on being spoke to, came
To meet his friend, – Tom was his name, –
"I'm glad 'tis thee! dear Tom, I find"
Quoth Bob, "that I might ease my mind
By telling thee my fears, and grief,
For so, 'tis thus, man finds relief
From mental troubles fears and frights,
By fancy caused, or such strange sights,
As I this day have seen."

.................."Bob dear,
What gives thee sorrow, let me hear,"
Said Tom. "Mayhap, when told, we'll find
It like much else, scarce aught but wind." –
"When I awoke this nocturn morn,"
Said Bob, "as our moon shew'd her horn
Above the hills of Waiwetu –
I, from my place, first took a view,
Looking all round that I might make
My mind up, which way I should take,
In following up our day's pursuit,
While rested man and labouring brute.
Thus, from our backwoods solitude,
I sallied forth in humorous mood,
To view the slumb'ring world around,
And taste what pleasures might be found:
Some time I ranged, had much delight,
But feeling tired, I chanced to light
Upon the parson's chimney top; –
Which place stands high, with ample scope
For all varieties of view,
From Mount Cook, to Mount Tararu, –
I praised the moon, whose lovely sheen
Proclaim'd her o'er the stars their Queen!
While curling waters, in the bay,
Shew'd lustre, as by God of Day:

Where rides the shipping, as asleep,
Like great levi'thans of the deep;
All still, save roused by the loud knell,
Of the night watches' warning bell.
And smoother waters with due grace,
Would hold a mirror to her face:
While distant hills their heads would bow
And in grey mantles hide the brow,
Like serfs, from lords, for favours sueing, –
So seemed they thus obeisance doing.
Well pleased in short, with all I saw
Consistent with old nature's law;
I wondered next, what might be found
Of pleasure in the city round; –
But quickly roused, I turned my head
Toward the mansions of the dead,
As from that quarter sounds proceeded,
Of puzzling import, and succeeded
By yells resembling cats at fight,
Which gained my curious fancy, quite,
To make observe: – so to be nigher
I made remove to the Church spire.
Then, ogling, gogling, with surprise,
Not knowing how to trust mine eyes,
I stretched, and blink'd, and look'd, and saw,
Two somethings clad in garbs of law,
(At least I did surmise as much
As gowns and wigs belong to such;)
Among the bushes that did wave
Their shadows o'er a new made grave!
They seemed to be in hot dispute,
As one, the other, would confute;
But what the subject was about,
I could not riddle, or make out;
Yet they endeavoured to make words,
Give wounds like daggers, or sharp swords,
One shook in tothers' face his brief,
And called him scoundrel arrant thief!
While tother, such things to oppose,
Caught hard his fellow by the nose.

And gave it such a twist, as made
the contest take a deeper shade
Of furious wrath, and stormy rage,
Their passions stirring to engage
Like pugilists. They raised on high
Their winglike arms, as to defy
All powers resistive, and impose
More downward vengeance in the blows
They would inflict. While many a shout
They gave, and leap'd, and pranced about
In aweful wrath; and from each form
Fire flashed like that of thunder storm!
I knew not how to bear the sight,
But trembling stood and screamed outright!
And as I screamed, one sunk to earth;
The other swelling big with wrath
A hideous bulk, – then oh! how dire!
Exploded in a flash of fire!
Recovering strength, though full of dread,
My hasty flight I've hither sped;
And glad am I to find you here
Dear Tom! who can my spirits cheer."
"More pork!" quoth Tom, "'Tis somewhat strange
How this age brings within the range
Of our observe, scenes quite unknown
Before to ancestors; whereon
Tradition renders no account,
And history too keeps silence on't;
By which, we cannot but infer,
Those troubles new, to which compare
We nothing can, must owe their birth
To those, from tother side the earth;
Who boast of being well advised
In wisdom's way, and civilised
Beyond the reach of our old friends! –
But there, perhaps, their wisdom ends,
And folly civilized begins; –
Even at that point where wisdom wins
Its approbation. But beyond
That point, the further they abscond

From truth and justice, by the abuse
Of civil laws, made of no use
By being sifted well for flaws,
Which foil the client with his cause;
They only set a bad example,
Inducing our old friends, to trample
Upon them, as of no import;
And sneer at such imbecile sort!
Their lawyers too, I've marked forsooth,
Look somewhat puzzled at the truth;
As train'd to argue falsehoods cause
And seek out breaches in the laws; (1)
By which, even murderers at large
Are set, freed from the hangman's charge:
So from such beaten track, tis hard
Then to persuade; as to discard
The second nature on them grown
Would be, to throw off wig and gown, –
Like some reptiles, that change their skin –
Though not t'improve, but to begin
Some other process, with a maw
Rapacious 'gainst the tardy law;
As claims to try, in furry hot,
With cudgel, or by pistol shot!
Their clients trusting in the skill
They shew, as theives resetters will
Urged by ambitious low desire; –
No matter, if they but acquire
The ends pursued; though in so doin'
They build upon another's ruin!
Closing their eyes against the view,
Of doing, what they'd be done unto!
Were this observed, t'would soon be seen
Law feuds how few, and far between.
But, since those strangers have come round
From tother side, much does abound
Of customs, erst to us, unknow,
As they'd turn nature upside down.
To them the darkness of the night,
Seem of as much use as the light

Of our bright moon; – or their great sun –
When honest deeds should most be done!
I've seen, 'tis true, the industrious poor, –
By day who labour to procure
A scanty pittance from the gains,
Lordlings wring from his strength and pains,
To give his household bread, – enjoy
Our moons bright beams at his employ,
Clearing his cumbered grounds, for crop;
Glad of this chance, inspired by hope,
By such means, soon he might with joy,
Surmount hard pinching poverty;
Pleased with his aim, I've oft him spoke (2)
Approving praise! and sung "more pork!"
But full as oft while roving wide,
And nature's pleasures I enjoyed,
I've oft been grieved, as much I've mused,
How our moon's light have been abused,
As aiding some vile pakehas,
In deeds subversive of the laws
Nature proclaimed, and still would bind
As sacred upon all mankind.

Our ancient friends surnamed the moaries
Paid more respect, than such white furies,
To our beloved day star bright,
That crowns their azure vaults of night;
When housed they lay, nor sought to roam,
Enjoying all the sweets of home!
Allowing undisputed right,
To us, the enjoyments of their night.
But, since those strangers from afar
Have hither come, some evil star
Has o'er us risen! – I presume
From what I've much observed, our doom
Is to be witness to strange sights.
They've introduced. Their darkest nights,
Have deeds, which dare not meet the face
Of our fair moon! They would disgrace
Yon distant stars, if clouds would not
For shame oft' veil the guilty blot

Flung 'gainst the laws of heaven! alas!
Must we be witness? or must pass
Condemning sentence?" –

.................."Aye! (quoth Bob,
With a long sigh) they too, would rob
Us of our peaceful slumbers! Oft,
Have I been startled from the soft
Enjoyments of my couch, by sounds
Of awful import, mid a smoke
Of sulph'rous stench; by which, when woke
I scarce could breathe! and oft I've heard
Some victim fall a prey, which scared
Me, trembling much, from farther sleep,
Nor could I o'er such deeds but weep!"
"Such things, breed sadness Bob," – quoth Tom,
"If vengeance find them not at home
And render chastisement, I fear
Our sorrows may increase, if near
Be not some aid unseen, t'o'ercome
Such ills, for future good, as some
May dare to hope! But I'll relate
What I have heard," –

................."'Twas no sad fate,
I hope,' quoth Bob, "unto our race?" –
"Oh, no!" quoth Tom, "'twas in the case
Of two old rats, which chanced to meet;
They seemed related, as did greet
The other each, in their own way,
While close I watched them as good prey,
One plump and large! the other thin,
Whose bones seemed peering through its skin?
One eye it had, blind as a stone!
One ear, and half its tail, were gone!
And from its hobbling gait, I beg
T'observe 'twas minus of one leg.
Each asked the other, where they'd been,
And told all they had heard or seen.
So fond to hear the news, I spared
Awhile my appetite; – but cared

To be full ready for a pounce,
On plump, if not on both at once.
The thin one shew'd his hapless fate,
And what misfortunes he of late
Had met; besides much wayward strife
And hard escape, with scarce the life;
Pursued by hungry ravenous cats,
Which prowl and watch round bushmen's huts,
With jealous care. –

..................."I see for why"
Said plump, "because, they could descry
But short allowance, for you both;
Therefore, 'tis reason they'd be loath
T'allow their little share of stealth
To such as you: – Not so where wealth
Has its abode, for dogs and cats
Well fed, care little for us rats!
For where I've live'd, this sometime past,
I've ne'er been forced to fear, or fast,
But had good fare, while dog and cat
From bones, and greasy plates grew fat!
And I through cupboards ranged, and fed
Upon the best, nor cared for bread,
While ev'ry kind of dainty meat,
Which lords and ladies choose to eat,
In shape of puddings, pigeon pies,
Beef, mutton, pork, in stews and frys,
All kinds of cookery in paste,
Most fit to suit each gormond's taste,
Lay at my pleasure!" –

......................"Ah! I wish,"
Said Lean, "I share could in one dish;
With 'very thought, I lick my lip,
As fain, as favour'd with a dip
In even one, to you the least! –
Aye, that would prove to me a feast!
Pray tell where such a place is found,
Or how such plenty does abound;
My stomach aches! so fain, to go,
To share some good! – pray let me know!

"The place, (said Plump,) is yon hotel,
Sometimes culled tavern, Inn as well,
Yet 'tis a haunt where rogues, and fools,
Oft meet against all wisdom's rules;
To spend their earnings, and their time
Debauching, which you know, dont chime,
With common sense; while much they boast
Of such, though double share be lost
By fumes of firey drink! – nay, even then,
They'll bounce themselves as best of men!
No matter, though their families wail,
And scarcities at home prevail;
Sots, will be sots, the landlord's joy!
Though peace at home they should destroy.
From what I've shewn, you may decry,
The cause of thy sad poverty;
And also know, how I'm so fat,
And ne'er been vexed by dog or cat,
The landlord, too, who once was poor,
Whose bones then could not well endure,
The coldness of a south-east gale,
For want of flesh, which made him wail,
With racking rheums, – he's now so plump,
That south-east winds, ne'er plague the rump
Which ached before. His bulk would shew
Him, like a well-rose batch of dough!
So bellied like a porter butt,
With full moon face, and gooselike strut, –
Strange contrast sure, with each that spends
Hard earnings on the grog he vends;
Though plain 'tis seen by sober thinkers
Yet all seem hid to thoughtless drinkers,
Who sweating at their toil all day,
For yesternight's debauch to pay.
While poor wife, yoked to such a knave,
To all his passions must be slave;
And little offspring, through his fault,
Oft glad to fare on spuds and salt,
The fruit's of mothers toil! – nay guess,
Must oft to bed go supperless!

Because a drunken father must,
Go serve the devil with his lust;
And aid t'increase the landlord's store,
Of all good cheer, as shewn before;
Won by his smiles while lasts the cash.
But when that's done, accounted trash,
And even tumbled to the door, –
No matter, oft, how clouds might pour,
Their midnight torrents!" –

..................."Fools! (cried Lean,)
To rob themselves of good. I ween,
Such wickedness incite the cats,
To take revenge on us poor rats! –
But still, such is not always so
What you would urge, because I know
Some virtuous and hard working men
Have nothing got to lose! – nay when
Some worldly holiday appeared
No other extra bounties cheered
Their humble board than hardy fare, –
And even that, I've seen so spare
That would provoke compassion's tear
In me though famished! – but I fear
Such may not be by you believed
Though o'er such scenes I've often grieved.
I've heard a mother curse the day
She left her father's home, – the sway
Of sorrow and of want o'ercoming
Those tender feelings most becoming
A wife! – for why? her helpless young
Were suffering, and her heart was wrung
With agony to hear them cry
For bread she could not give! – and why?
Her husband's earnings due, his share
By fraud withheld, wrought such despair,
So truly painful to endure;
And reason good why I'm so poor! –
However now I wish to share
The landlord's plenty – "

....................."Hold! beware!"

Cried Plumpy, and so check'd Lean's going
"I've something more to tell thee, shewing
How much I've been affrighted. Its
A wonder quite I've kept my wits,
To aid escape! – I'd starve! I vow,
'Ere I return; – -I'll tell thee how: –
Last night, when passing from the tap, –
A place well called the "devil's trap," –
Where every kind of vice is found,
Hatched either above or under ground,
Well baited with all sorts of grog,
To suit vile lust, so much in vogue.
A secret passage near the ceiling,
I had, with many a hole revealing,
Whate'er was worthy of observe, –
This passage then, did often serve
For safe retreat: – But, as I say,
From lap to parlour I my way
Made good, as there some jovial sport
I heard, from some called 'better sort;'
And thro' my peep hole, there I spied
Three men, who seem'd themselves beside; –
Sometimes they raged in hot dispute,
As each his point, against confute
Would hold, and swear by ev'ry oath,
As falsehood, they'd confirm for truth.
Then would they, with a loud ha, haw!
Enjoy their joke; and long would draw
Their faces, upward turned; then drink
To either's prospects, with a wink,
Significant of something else,
Which shew'd their friendship hollow – false!
At last I found their chief delights,
Lay in horse racing and dog fights,
Oft chuckling o'er some clever trick,
Which none but they, as faced with brick,
Could e'er achieve; sometimes they'd change
Their converse, and would take a range,
O'er mercantile affairs, descanting
Upon their profits great; nay, vaunting

Oft over such a one beat down,
And with a dead take in, 'done brown!' –
Then, how to wring from working man,
His half paid wages, and what plan,
To keep him servile to the ground,
Would be discuss'd, with thoughts profound
Upon self interests, though they end
Only in what they've got to spend,
That they, in company, might feel
At ease, in being thought genteel.
Still on whatever point they turned,
Like madmen, each, for mastery burn'd;
The more they raged, the more they laughed,
While bumper's flowing, oft were quaffed.
Jack praised his horse, as source of wealth,
And drunk a bumper to his health,
And Ned, his dog, would bait gainst San,
And vowed 'twould tear his like a man;
Though San the challenge would decline,
He praised his bullocks as divine;
And cursed his servant's all for asses,
A pack of hounds, but what surpasses
All sound belief, to say no more,
He called his gentle wife-
Oh! fie, that word I will not name,
Lest it would make you blush for shame! –
'Twas thus they spouted, drank, and raged,
Till something else their thoughts engaged. –
A great moth fluttering through the room,
Flew high and low, and did assume,
Fresh colours, 'tractive to the sight,
When hovering round the candle light,
Or brushing past their noses, till
Each man was roused to try his skill,
To catch the playful thing, to see
What sort of creature it might be;
Full many a grasp about was played,
As oft escape the creature made;
Nor did it in the least seem fear'd,
But round their heads it persever'd,

Their efforts mocking to admire,
Which roused determination's ire: –
Ned's arm made aweful sweep, – his luck
He missed and tumbled against Jack,
Which sent them rolling to the floor,
O'er rattling chairs, with wild uproar.
While San held up his fist and swore,
He ne'er saw such a thing before!
And as he swore, what he was able,
He gave a thump upon the table,
Which made the candlesticks and glasses,
Go, twirl a "jig," like lads and lasses;
Like what I've seen at fancy ball
Or other joyous festival.
But quite unused to such a bout.
The candles tumbled and went out.
Thus, in an instant, all was dark; –
A light was called again; – but hark!
I heard a struggle and a groan; –
When light was brought, both San was gone,
And the great moth! – Now, at the sight
The landlord stared, as well he might,
With hands uplifted, till his tongue,
Recovered speech, then cried, 'What's wrong?'
The company scrambling up, as meet
Next marvelled at the empty seat,
And where is San! (5) – Alack a-day!
See how my whiskers have grown grey,
With such a fright! – So I declare,
My living I shall seek elsewhere! –

By this, dear Bob, I chanced to spy
A wild cat coming, very sly;
And as it crawled with noiseless feet,
It snuffed, as, measuring distance meet,
Wagging its tail, it couched to spring; –
I pounced – took Plump; Puss scratch'd my wing: –
Right glad I felt escape to make
With such a prize! Left Puss to take
Lean if it chose – if not, to fast –
While I enjoy'd my rich repast;
Which, finish'd, made me blythe with joke,
As o'er my luck I sang, " More po'k!"

"Ah! Tom," quoth Bob, "how happy thou
T'escape such scenes yourself. But now
I cannot but congratulate
Your near escape; for were your fate
'Neath Puss's claws, your bones she'd crump,
Instead of you enjoying Plump.
But, sir, those scenes you have rehearsed,
Not by yourself endured – reversed
Must be the consequence, I find,
Upon your present joyous mind.
If such yourself you had beheld,
Instead of having heard it told,
I doubt not but some other mood
'Gainst pleasantry would be withstood;
The same as man, when in a huff,
Who no affection has for puff.
Yet sage your counsels I allow,
And your remarks, I must avow,
Are somewhat pat regarding man
That would offend 'gainst wisdom's ban; –
But, don't you think what I have seen
And you have heard might something mean
Of great import about to hap? –
From bodings strange I can't escape;
But whether they're for good or ill
I'm, as in stupor, puzzled still;
Not being fit to judge aright,
So labouring 'neath the effects of fright."

"True, Bob," quoth Tom; "each frightful scene
Is ominous. In them, I ween,
Much trouble I've discern'd, and wars
About to hap. When I the stars
This morn survey'd, methinks I could
Read desolations – fields of blood –
But could not make it out so clear
As now so plain it would appear
From what I've heard. Yet I foresaw
Some cause for joy in nature's law –
The poor man rise above his toil,
And o'er his past privations smile.

In spite of lordlings, who, oppress
And fain would grind him to distress,
I saw him rise above such power,
That would afflict in evil hour;
I saw him glory in his toil,
A true possessor of the soil.
And such gave pleasure, Bob; nor could
I keep from being in merry mood.
Ogling the moon, more cause I saw
That such conclusions I might draw;
Not distant far the time of peace,
When all destructive wars shall cease;
Which truly kept me void of care. –
But, if you please, let us repair
To Dick, the wise astrologer,
To whom we can all things refer."

"Most wisely said," quoth Bob; "with you
I am agreed;" so off they flew.

* * * * *

Thus, noble Sire! I have declared
Th'amount of all I overheard;
Nor could I their confab despise,
As owls have been reputed wise
In ev'ry age. Now, let us learn,
From what of import, they discern,
So as t'improve our minds, though sound,
Too weak for matters so profound
As I've rehearsed: – from which we're sure,
Some hardships yet we must endure,
Before we reach that time of peace,
So much desired, when wars shall cease.

[END OF CANTO SECOND.]

CANTO IV.

CANTO IV.

Thus, Fantail ceased; but no applause
Him greeted as was due. The cause
Of which I soon descerned. On high
The watch gave signal; – "I espy
Great distance off, and this way bound.
Some one in haste!" – So, at the sound,
In one direction, all eyes turned
While every throbbing bosom burn'd
With anxious inquiry, – as when,
From the mast head of merchantmen,
In far horizon's seen, "a sail,"
Then ev'ry aid, where visions fail,
In shape of glasses in full tale
Are used, with signals high, to know
Whether such may be friend or foe.
Thus ev'ry nerve they strain'd, and oft
Each other asked in whispers soft,
Who such might be? – while those in fear
The worst surmised; – yet some with cheer
Would hope the best, yea even try,
To comfort those inclined to sigh
Suspicious of their fates. Again,
The watch exclaimed, "good news!" – "Amen!"
Resounded through the throng, with sighs,
As fear swelled hearts, releaved, replies
In gratulating joy. – "He bears
The badge of peace! – Now let all cares
Be far expell'd! – See now he nears!' –
"Him, welcome with your loudest cheers,
Into your midst"! was the command
Of President with count'nance bland
Beaming with joy! – a great ado
Was made, when all with loud carroo
Made welcome Courier from abroad,
Now just arrived.

* * * * *

..................."Bear up thy load!
Oh might pine, now made to creak
With such a stir; should'st thou get weak.
And so break down, alas my cot
And all would be to ruins brought;
And pain me with distracted mind,
A helpless wretch! – Where could I find
Another shelter! when before
A neighbour, unprovoked, his door
Against me shut, nay, even denied
The privilege of a walless shed
And in no use, – (though thanks to God
My farther, neighbours did feel glad,
To shew me pity, when my home
In ruins lay, then forced to roam
'Mid cold and wet;) now, midnight past,
And long ere morning comes, to cast
A better light o'er things, than now,
When clouds begin t'eclipse the brow
Of yonder moon; I hope ere long
(For patience will wear out,) that throng
Will be dispersed. Ah! now, how cold
The breezes blow! And must I hold
Out longer watch, and at my post,
Stand shivering? besides, have lost
My midnight rest? – so fain to serve
My curious passions to observe
The doing, of this meeting! – Well!
Where such may end, tis hard to tell. –
But can I venture to my bed?
Who knows, before I lay my head
Upon its pillow, some mishap
Might overtake without escape;
Without assistance to befriend; –
So, thus, to see how matters end,
I must keep watch."

* * * * *

.................Lo! Courier stands,
And audience craves; – Herald demands
Attention due, – for all were fill'd

With joy, and private converse held
Each neighb'ring pair together so; –
Much like mixed multitudes below,
When each o'erjoyed at some event,
Of happy import, and intent
For public good; while full of glee
Applause is spoke in language free,
When mingled tongues make noise, instead
Of making understood what's said! –
Their voices, thus, seemed strange confusion
Till Herald brought them to conclusion,
And Courier thus began. –

......................My Sire!
With due dispatch, all thy desire,
I have accomplished; and have made
Discoveries great; of which, 'tis said,
They'll much alleviate our distress,
So as t'increase our happiness.
As truth's unseemly in the dark,
But, brought to light, then all can mark
Its worth, when call'd each cause to serve;
So, thus, I cannot but observe,
As known, our general law is love,
Which we to either daily prove;
Which law has never been deranged,
Because it never can be changed! – -
But such, is not the case with man,
Who oft must alter his best plan,
Sometimes for good, but oft for worse
Just as the accident occurs;
For fancy oft will lead him here,
And next expedient drives him there;
But even there, he finds no rest,
And feels much puzzled for the best.
Perfection in him sure is wonder,
If great he makes the greatest blunder,
If through pretence he fain would screen,
His weaker parts, – ah! then, they're seen
More glaring to the vulgar eye,
So greedy, secret things, to spy;

And most unwilling to atone
For any foible, but their own!
(Malicious wretches! 'tis disgrace
In any join'd to human race). –
To see pretensions run so high,
'Tis quite amusing: – You'll descry
It chiefly in the upish orders,
Who fainly wish t'extend the borders
Of all the spheres, in which they move; –
Nay, even mount the car of Jove,
To drive it with incautious ire,
Until they've got the world on fire!
Aye, one would think them wondrous wise.
And would all happiness devise,
From what they would pretend to do,
In such chalked courses they'd pursue;
Yet after all 'twould prove pretence,
And quite out shame all common sense! –
He far, such doings, from our legions
Of unsophisticated pigeons! –
How oft the ruled would rulers rule,
And fainly would all laws befool,
For what's to-day, they'd change to-morrow,
Though e'en the change must to their sorrow
Need more reform, – Tis thus we scan
So small sagacity in man.
'Tis thus our aborigines see,
How their new neighbours disagree,
Like those of a divided house,
To either's wish ungenerous;
While such examples, as a curse
They'd deem, and so would make things worse,
And try advantages to take,
Of such discords for plunder's sake.
So out of which, a war has risen,
Which would the peaceful quite bedizen,
And much affect our race, that we
Live all day long in jeopardy.

But, Sire, through all this waste of laws,
It is not mine to trace the cause

Of the excitement of such wins.
Nor yet on this abuse of powers,
In declamation to persist,
We're satisfied they do exist
To great extent. Let us shew forth
How those from 'tother side the earth
Have hither come; and who they are
As I have heard. – Still I declare
(For justice must be done 'tis true)
In that country there's not a few,
Who well deserve the name of "good,"
Who ever deprecate aught rude
In word or deed, to us, or ours,
And peace protect with all their powers.

But there are others who dissuade
From public weal, as retrogade,
So full of bounce and high pretence,
Demanding public confidence, –
As they forsooth were all in all,
And every bliss would sure befall
Their train – whereas, meanwhile they try
To involve all others in the lie
They'd blazzon forth as very truth.
Though self deceived, they'd work the faith
Of all their dupes. So there was one
Some would declare the moon upon
His pate had struck; – while some would shew,
More than the others wished to know,
That in him sound philanthropy,
With all considerate charity,
Was parent of each thought or deed
He would perform; – yet all agreed
He had ambition for a name
Transmittant on the breath of fame
To all time coming! – How his soul
Burned ardently without controul
At being called a "nation's founder"
And look'd on as another wonder
By future generations! – Now,
Too full of impulse to allow

A secondary thought to give
His plans due balance. Bold 't achieve
His half formed purpose he proposes
To this and 'tother well mixed doses
Of the great benefits arising
From his new schemes of colonizing
This our country. Self interest rose
Applauding all he could propose

Uniting in one company,
Men of all shades of politicks,
Much like a mass of crocked sticks

Together bound; yet who would shy
And all their honours spurn for pelf,
If aught occurred to injure self:
Though gulled, yet eager to a man
They gulp the half digested plan.
As fish would, the well-baited hooks
Of wily anglers by their brooks;
Yet all rejoicing in the end,
To reap a glorious dividend.
As lunatics will oft proclaim
Their rights o'er what they have no claim,
So they began to trade, and sell (1)
This land before they could it call
Their own, or even know, much less,
If even a foot they could possess.
But, trusting to the toss of chance.
Or an overruling Providence;
In hastening their united aims,
In childish traffic, for the claims
Of native territorial right; –
But such it was, view'd in the light
Of Nature's law, – so's to dispose,
Not theirs! Their influence work'd on those
Who, smit by their contagion, chose
To be their dupes. But still how mix'd
The motives each would show; so fix'd
On the projectors' glowing schemes.
Exciting the most golden dreams,
That e'er could pleasure fanatics,

Or fools beguiled by feigning tricks
Of gambling thimbleriggers. – This
Beheld possessions vast, the bass
Of mighty incomes, for a trifle
Before him dance! enough to stifle
The most voracious shark. Meanwhile (2)
O'er the fair prospect, some would smile
At being fit to portion off,
A rising family, with enough
To make them claim a lord's estate; –
Thus, many did congratulate
Their fancied luck as real! – While that,
For family prodigals, most pat,
Beheld a place of exile, where,
Though free, yet banish'd with some share
Of love paternal, they might send
A spoil'd son, hoping there he'd mend
His manners; so would purchase claim
To some small state, where he might aim,
Through self-reliance, to retrace
His conduct and escape disgrace;
Which might revert to their own shame,.
While sicken'd at his evil fame!

And others anxious to retrieve
Some loss of fortune, or revive
A family name brought to the dust
Of poverty, as doom'd to rust
In cold neglect, and be forgot;
So, in this country, they their lot
Would cast, urged by the pleasing hope,
That Providence may give full scope
To their endeavours, and may bless
Their pursuits, and bestow success.

But some, affecting great dissent
Toward th'existing Government,
Who, foil'd in some ambitious aim,
'Gainst its corruptions would declaim;
And restless spirits prove, nor cease
T'endanger much the public peace,

If they could but be heard; although,
They would give out, much good would grow
From their endeavours, were they follow'd; –
So, oft, when John Bull loudly bellow'd,
With goring threats, or oft the ground
He paw'd with ire, and blackly frown'd,
Or with resentment swung his tail; –
How would their bouncing courage quail!
Though secretly they'd grumble, as
They were disgusted with the laws,
They'd dare presume to mend. But now
A glorious chance occurs! They vow,
To bid farewell to all that's dear!
Sellf-martyr'd! to their fond career
Of fancied patriotic strife,
For liberty, more dear than life!
Though not enslaved, but 'neath command
To keep the peace! Such, too, this land
Must share, as if their country would
Their absence mourn and so intrude
Upon our liberties; with hope
Ambitious, here, to have full scope
For self-advancement; fully bent
On feign'd republic government; –
But check'd their joys, as time most fain
Declares, their motives have been vain!

But some, indeed, of other aims
Disinterested, as their names
Are oft suppress'd, while rich in deeds
Philanthropic, in sowing seeds
Of future benefits! to bless
The poor deserving, – aid distress,
As faithful stewards – could descry
Another opening, whereby
Some good might thence result; – would join
And 'mid the various motives shine
Conspicuous, though in secret guise;
Much good still anxious to devise, –
Apart from seeking praise! – secure
An outlet for the lab'ring poor.

By purchasing of claims, whose lands
May be resold, upon demands,
In parts, on terms accessible
And prove a boon admissible
By the industrious, – thus, relieving
From want some families, and achieving:
Some little good to trade, that all
Might reap a livelihood, and tell
Upon their future destinies
For good; – while gratitude replies
Aloud in active industry; –
Thus thanking such philanthropy! –
Of this, how few, compared to those
Which would the other tribes compose,
But chiefly they of sharking fame,
Whose av'rice has no other aim
Than serving self, – nay would efface
Humanity, dispite disgrace!

Whatever motive each would claim,
To act the magnet of each aim,
Yet much was bought, and much was sold,.
Transforming all these lands to gold,
Either in visions of the buyers,
Or in the coffers of stock cries,
Nor did the game here stop, but fix'd
To give each purchase value, next
The humbler public must be roused,
As they, their cause, had much espoused,
And on their labours, value just
Had placed, to raise them from the dust;
As, when inhabitants increase,
Tis said, a nation's in good case;
So, thus, if possible, their dreams,
To realize, and give their schemes
A prosp'rous issue; and beguile
O'er to their ends the sons of toil, –
Great placard sheets, they post about,
Large letter'd, as with thund'ring shout
They would proclaim, – that deaf might hear,
Or blind might see, both far and near. –

FREE PASSAGE to New Zealand's isle!
Are offer'd to the sons of toil!
Of various trades – good men, apply! –
High wages named, as by the bye,
T'attract the attention of the unwary,
Like baited snares that wont miscarry
To serve the end desired, so thus,
Those placards soon raise great discuss
In minds of those who them beheld,
And o'er them pondered, as if seal'd
By magic to the spot; while all,
Felt something pressing, as to call
For their decision, on a point
Of great import. – This, much acquaint
With sad misfortunes, in his trade,
Here sees a door, wide open made,
For his escape, and so decides
T'improve the priv'lige as betides
Necessity! – yet fain he thinks,
Though thus his creditors he jinks,
An honest purpose in his breast,
Should he by providence be blessed, (3)
Will make return with fortune bright,
And set all seeming wrongs to right,

Those unemployed, yet cannot want,
Their living fain to earn, discant
In their own thoughts, – What good is home?"
If we can't live; we'll rather roam
To other climes, and take our chance,
Since, now, a smiling providence
Points out the way. – Free passages,
Rank seldom mongst the usages
Of our grandees, save for the rogue; –
While honest folks are not in vogue
For such great favours, to escape
Starvation here, far less have hope
To rise above our poverty,
Even with all our industry
When well employed. Nor can we bear
The thoughts of workhouse pittance spare

To be our lot; with families torn
From our embrace, and cast forlorn
Beneath some ruthless guardian's power, –
Oh no! such things we can't endure,
Whatever fortune may betide,
We'll rather cross the oceans wide.

The amorious swain, rejoices too
To see his hopes complete in view;
He long had striven hard to gain,
By well earned savings, what he fain
Would think sufficient, to ensure
A future welfare, and procure
The happiness of her, he loves,
Destined his own. He much approves
Of such an offer, and has heard
That married couples are preferr'd
To single men; he next confers
In haste with dearest, who prefers
His sweet proposals, to delay,
Which hastens the long-looked for day,
Of happy union; quite assured,
(Whatever hardship be endured,
In foreign lands,) of his fond love,
And, of her willingness to prove
His sole companion; and take share
In sorrows, with her soothing care:
Yet hoping Providence will smile
Upon their loves, and bless their toil.

Some maid, now got beyond the bloom
Of youth, and ceasing to presume
On hope of changing single life,
For bliss of being called a wife, –
As clouds the sunshine oft o'ercast,
And gay scenes look a dreary waste, –
So damp'd in spirits at the thought
Of former offers sunk to nought,
By some unlucky whim, when she
Might have enjoy'd a marriage free.
Determined now to leave her home,
Though feigning a desire to roam,

The world to see; yet, underhand,
This hope still lurks, – she may command
Some worthy offer, or at least

Escape the jeers of former lovers,
As on her loneliness they feast

Derisive wit. Thus she discovers
Some motives good t'enforce decision,
And give "farewell" more weighty reason;
Thus bolst'ring up her fallen pride,
In foreign lands her woes to hide.

But why enumerate instances, –
As those placards served all fancies;
For all determined to leave sorrow,
And bid good-bye with cares to-morrow.
The prodigal, held under scorn
Parental, feels such can't be borne,
Thus finds escape. And 'prentice boys
Of every trade, quickly descries
Escape from bonds. Though none could tell,
For certain, how things might befall,
Yet all would bode on happiness,
As seeing 'scape from some distress;
So glad to leave their native land,
To meet new sorrows on this strand,
Though unforeseen, 'gainst all desire, –
As, from the pan into the fire,
They made a leap of desperation;
Yet no way alt'ring their condition,
For good supposed. Thus many left
Their comfortable homes, bereft
Of means for due support – as they
Too easily became the prey
Of theoretic schemers, who
Held grand inducements up to view:
Such as – at small amount t'obtain
(A glorious bait!) a good domain, –
A madman's risk! – with hopes full high
Of reaching independency.
Alas! vain dreams! – their all at stake; –
To their true state now full awake,

And too late to retrieve their steps!
Their lands! where are they? All their hopes
Are blasted, and themselves are sunk
To hopeless ruin. Deep they've drunk
Of mis'ry's cup. The lab'rour came – (5)
But where was the employer? "Shame!"
May well be stamp'd upon the face
Of the whole farce, as common-place
Deception quite! Our forests dense
Appall'd much childish courage; hence
Arose much doubt, if means here spent
Would make returns, as competent
To future benefits. Alas!
What indicisions now! – the cause
Of much complaint, as cowardice
Bespoke inaction as most wise.
How many kept aloof, that might
Have added strength of purpose, fit
T'insure success. But, loving ease
And fancied gains, those absentees
Thus hateful prove Those, come alone,
Without a brave example shown,
Would mourn their choice. Hard times prevail'd,
While adverse Governors assail'd,
To check republic spirits, and
All pow'rs take under their command
As they had rebels been, and rose
Against their Queen's established laws;
While vauntingly they show'd address,
Full less to govern than t'oppress. (6)
Now things took more an awkward course,
Unthought of, as from bad to worse,
Instead of bettering, as they might
Had schemes from first been order'd right.
But such it is. Let the result, (7)
Of all bad management the fault,
Now find its place. When through the air
We pass, and, looking down with care
Upon the bushman's lot, you must
Have made observe, how to the dust

He is bow'd clown with painful toil,
And struggling with hard fate the while;
The sad reverse of many a hope
Enjoy'd, as he his mind gave scope
To dreams of bliss, which made him roam,
And leave the enjoyments of sweet home.
Such thoughts embitter much his cup,
While he with hardships now must cope,
Or sink undone. (8) And see his roads!
Through which, pack-beast like, he his loads
Must bear, so deep with mire, where scarce
His Excellency would trust his horse;
Still such must be endured! Again,
I've seen the lordling, with disdain,
Refuse to pay his workman's hire
When duly won. Alas! my sire,
The lab'rour, wrong'd on ev'ry hand,
No power has he at his command
T'obtain redress. With frugal care,
Enforced, I've known him glad to fare
On meanest substitutes, the while (9)
Out-wrong'd his due rewards for toil.

How much of enterprise we've seen (10)
In fruitless labour lost; I ween
With hope of doing good in view,
Yet baulk'd in what they would pursue,
Either from want of means to gain
The end, or crush'd with foul disdain!
Thus each unfinish'd work would cry,
The people's fill'd with lunacy!
And all their efforts but a case
No better than a wild goose chase!
How little comfort is enjoy'd,
While none know how to be employ'd
To earn his scanty crust of bread.
And those of any means have dread
To venture such, though useful gains
Awaits investure for his pains
Of raising good employment; but,
Blind to his own as well as that

Of others' good, would rather blast
His means by waste, than risk to cast
His bread on waters, which might turn
Him fourfold plenty, richly borne
Unto his bosom! Nay, I've seen
The man of candour, once I ween
In all his deeds exemplary,
But, borne down by adversity,
As tried beyond endurance, made
Heart-broken, so's to retrograde
With darken'd mind, cast in the shade
Of infidelity, forget
The wise examples once he set
To others, and himself become
The sad discomfort of his home.
Such sad results must give you pain; –
And see! the soil doth yet remain
Without possessor, save some spot
Found here and there, where cotters squat
With self-permission. Insecure
Their tenures! – which cannot insure
To them improvements meet; for why?
The landlord's absent! Industry
Is spiritless and low; nor cares
T'extend his labours more than dares
To serve his present wants, in fear
Lest base ejectment might be near,
When forced, improvements made the while,
To leave – (unthank'd for ample toil!) –
To some sharp lordling of the soil;
So that, all round, there's little less
Than the old cheerless wilderness!

Could brawny Industry its due
But meet, far other things we'd view;
The forest soon would be subdued,
And autumn yield its stores of food;
Nor would we reason have to mourn
O'er all those sorrows we have borne.
For in this land there's room for all,
Native or foreign, great or small,

And man employ'd would grow more wise,
Nor longer care to mar our joys.

But, no! The lordling will declare,
He scorns to yield the smallest share
To the industrious, though his lands
Lie idle, groaning out demands
For useful culture and removal
Of lumb'ring forests, to the approval
Of smiling Heaven, who'd deign to bless
Each useful effort with success.

But, where the promises held forth
T' induce the emigrant? Where's the worth
Of those pretensions, blaz'ning high,
To gain their dupes? Oh! how I sigh
O'er such considerations – deep
In foul intrigue; oft made to weep
O'er all the painful sorrows borne
By the deceived! betray'd!! – who mourn,
Now roused from all their golden dreams
To blasted hopes. Despair now seems
Triumphant on once smiling faces,
While grief absorbs the lively graces
By youth and beauty own'd; each eye,
With strange suspicion mark'd, awry
Is turn'd from the once favour'd friend,
Lest the cognisant look should lend
Assistance to some small request,
Too much to grant, though't might give rest
From vexing cares. Nay, ev'n in trade –
Where oft allowances are made
In gen'ral business when its state
Is prosperous – but now, of late,
Declining confidence exists
In bank-concerns, (11) whose chief persists
To stick to stingy int'rests laws,
As, in discount, he makes a pause
Akin to – No! – How many a heart,
From changes unforeseen, now smart!
And ardent burns for homes they left,
So much of comfort now bereft;

Content, if they could cross the waves,
To lie down in their fathers' graves!

Yes, such, my sire, are those sad times
'Mid which we live; which badly chimes
With our well-wishes and our feelings
To'ard those, the victims of such dealings,
Which breed much misery. Were these lands
Possess'd by those of horny hands, –
The bones and sinews, strength and health,
The source of true colonial wealth, –
Most happily rejoice might we,
And shout a glorious jubilee!
How giant Industry must lie
Thus shackled! – who could well defy,
If free, all want, and have o'er earth
The horn of plenty pour'd with mirth.

'Tis true, there were who great things tried
With ample means, but unallied
With knowledge, prudence, and goodwill; –
But, purse-proud, haughty, want of skill,
They plumed themselves in their own eyes
As knowing all things, wondrous wise;
With lofty airs and answers rough,
And look – as they'd look ten miles off! –
As men to them should humbly bow,
Their servile serfs. No wonder how
Such small success they met – nay, fail'd
In what they aim'd at; which entail'd
No small amount of loss; which case
Enforced them to a debtor's race,
'Neath midnight cover, to elude
Law vultures in pursuit, for good.
But others, of far other aims,
But full of self, and had no claims
To public spirit, in the lists
Of pioneering colonists.
Though gladly they'd accept the title,
To them it is not due; so little
Did they care for the public good; –
But, swell'd by rank extortion rude,

And judging from the times depress'd
They could no longer here exist,
And sway'd by faithlessness intense, (12)
In an overruling Providence
They've pack'd their baggage, and have gone;
Well served themselves, they leave alone
The rest to sink or swim! How like
The base-born wretch or coward tyke,
Who skulks the field to those who'd try
To battle out adversity.

How worthy those who stand unmov'd,
Prepared for worst! – as't all behoved, –
With those good feelings, which pervade
Society now for either's aid; –
For, when the lords feel insecure
They gladly herd with humbler poor,
Though once to either disinclined;
For common good they're now combined
To grapple with the adversar'
Should he approach, as fain he'd dare;
Though still aloof, with full intent
To make yet on them wild descent,
With all his trains of want and war,
All peace and pleasures to debar.

Tis thus, the many take up arms
To aid their ruler in alarms –
(Though much alarm'd themselves, no doubt,
By what of late had come about) –
More for the means of gaining bread
Than the regards they o'er him shed;
So thus, each novice having found
Some time to sport, and a spare round
Of ammunition, fain would try
His art of shooting; but for why?
He little knows; though, for an aim,
Seeks us for want of better game!

But, Sire, in all we would advance
We trace the hand of Providence.
As man of sound intelligence
Can good discern 'mid evil; hence,

Amid those turmoils we infer
That something better is in store,
Which will in all good time occur; –
So, let us wait without demur,
And in the enjoyment of sweet hope,
Assist each drooping spirit up;
For, as with man, 'tis in our favour,
That Heaven will bless a bold endeavour!

In all those colonizing schemes,
Exciting the most wayward dreams,
See Providence at work to send
The active labourer to this strand,
To aid disseminating truth
On native eld and rising youth;
With civilisation in the train
As consequents; and so restrain
Such ancient customs which oppose
Humanity's most sacred laws.
And see, as circumstances prove,
How it did Providence behove,
Through colonising schemes, to send
Timely protection to this land,
'Neath British banners and mild sway,
Instead of being the Eagle's prey.
And see, had not the wars begun,
Things for the worse had still gone on,
Till, who knows where the end might be
Of growing, hard adversity!

But oft it haps, 'mid earthly things,
Much good from seeming evil springs;
Though, so engross'd with presents, we
Can ill perceive how such can be;
Yet rest assured, that time anon,
Will have this broad-day truth made known!
For he who sits at helm of law,
With all his satellites, that draw
From him their virtues, forms, and graces,
Must soon to others give their places;
To which effect commands have been
Now issued by Great Britain's QUEEN.

Him she appoints to govern right (13)
Has a compound of blue and white –
Which mixture, I'm inform'd, is "GREY;"
Of which I've heard some wisdoms say –
That blue denotes much enterprise
And hardy valour, which defies
All oppositions to the cause
Espoused, according to the laws
Of majesty; while that of white
Denotes much prudence – for the right,
Great caution; which will char'cterise
His actions, though they may give rise
To spite, in those that fain would rule,
'Cause they can't use him as their tool!
But, as the sun has got his spots,
So, doubtless, he may have his faults,
To serve for goblins, much to carp at,
Or tunes for bearded boys to harp at;
Or his will be an extra case
That don't belong to human race!
But yet, withal, I understand
He'11 be the hardy workman's friend;
To many prove the rise to wealth, (14)
And much restore the public health,
Now sunk so low! – and give command
That roads be made throughout the land,
And such improvements make, that we
Ne'er dream'd this land should ever see.
He will the many wrongs redress,
And all these troubles soon repress;
When man in peace shall till the soil, (13)
Nor longer care our joys to spoil;
When sage and savage will agree
To live in peace and harmony.

But how such knowledge I have gain'd
"Tis due that such should be explain'd." –

With this, the President arose,
As sign the speaker now must close;
Who therefore took his seat amid
Great acclamations, long and loud,

With clapping wings, and much hurrah!
"God save the QUEEN! – We'11 welcome GREY
Encore! the President proclaim'd;
Encore! the multitude exclaim'd.
Carroo! carroo! carroo! hurrah!!!
"God bless the Queen! and send us GREY!!!"
Sway'd by their joys, my former fears
I quite forgot, and join'd their cheers;
My cap I toss'd, with – "hip! hurrah!!!
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN! – I'll welcome GREY!!!

* * * *

Thus, all partook unbounded joy
With grateful hearts, without alloy,
Till PRESES beckon'd silence. He
Exclaim'd, – "I thank you for this free
Discussion, and your presence here!
But, as the time has now drawn near
That we from either must disperse,
One counsel I would fain rehearse: –
Let us maintain the laws of peace!
And pray that troubles soon may cease! "
With this he bow'd, and then withdrew
With loving mate; when loud carroo
Of high acclaim was raised; then all,
With noisy flight, cooing farewell,
Betook to wing, as when they came;
And chanticleer would now proclaim
Th'approaching morn with clarion voice,
Roused by the pigeons' winging noise.
As forth they flew to seek, most meet
For them, the safest far retreat,
While I, at their dispersion glad,
Bade them adieu, and went to bed.

END OF THE POEM.

NOTES.

NOTES.

CANTO I.

(l, p. 4.)

Before my cottage, to the right,
'There stands a pine, of mod'rate height,
Which long has stood the stormy blast,
Not like its neighb'ring rata cast, &c.

To give the reader, who may be unacquainted with New Zealand bush life, some idea of the scene, allow me to remark, that my cottage, like many others of a like nature, was one of no very imposing appearance. It was built partly of slabs and partly necho leaves, 1 and, though no way air-tight, yet the surrounding lofty bush sheltered it from the uncomfortable winds which often prevail here, and being water-tight over head by a good thick cover of necho leaves, it served as a good shelter in the rough mode of beginning a bush life. This shelter was about 12 ft. by 14 ft., the ridge of the roof about 10 ft. high, having the door and one small window, about 15 inches square, in the gable end looking toward the west. To the right of the cottage, and about five or

six paces forward from the door, stood the pine referred to, so that about twelve o'clock the shadow of the tree completely covered the house; this served as a sort of hour-guage. A pig-sty, to which reference is made elsewhere, stood against the root of the pine-tree. Immediately behind my cottage, as if a line drawn from the pine tree passing through the cottage from the right corner looking west to the right corner looking cast, at one time stood a large rata-tree, but had been for some time laid low, lying along eastward, while its roots, carrying with them the clay in which they were enveloped, stood up like a clay wall about fifteen feet high. This is the rata referred to as tossing up its heels. Many, as they passed by, sometimes jokingly remarked of the root, – "See, there's a good side-wall of a house; I wonder why you did not build your house there," Such was the scene of the Poem.

(2, p. 5.)

If thou shouldst, I vow
You'll render mine a grievous lot,
And crush to ruins my poor cot,
Aye, more than when, the bucateer
Such havoc made me t'other year.

On entering upon a bush life, many of our colonial pioneers, as well as myself, through inexperience, and not foreseeing the chances of accidents, and so providing against them as prudence might dictate, by having every tree felled where a building was to be erected, and cutting off all communications that might conduct fire from around while burning off fallen bush, &c., from the want of using such-like precautions many were the losses that have been endured from fires and falling of trees upon dwellings, although I am happy to state, so far as I have heard, no lives have been lost. I may be allowed to give an instance as it occurred to myself, as adverted to above. When first I entered upon a piece of land, of which I obtained a lease, I fell upon what I thought a good place on which to fix my warre, or bush cottage, as referred to in Note 1. As the place I fixed upon was but a mere jungle of small bush, and would make what I thought a good opening though cut down with only the bill-hook, and one or two trees cut down with the axe, I then thought this, though no great spare, would give me room enough to begin with, and so proceeded with the building in form of a house. Suffice it to say, I had lived in it for nearly eighteen months without any accident, although several

trees during that time were cut down around my dwelling. However, about the close of the time referred to, in the month of July, upon a Saturday, it came on in the morning to a drizzling sort of rain, which prevented me from going to work elsewhere; and as I stayed at home I thought I might cut down a couple of trees, which I saw shaded the sun from a small patch of wheat growing near the house, judging that if I should get wet I was nigh home, and would get quickly on a dry change. I was fortunate enough in cutting down these, and had cut through a third, which made to fall, but it hung, tied by means of supplejacks and vines to its fellow's top. The trees were so covered with a kind of parasite plant, called a keekee, having a thick cabbage-like stock, covered with long tendril leaves, about eighteen inches long, hanging down, while from each stock branched out numerous heads, so that there was no judging how the trees were inclined, as in fact they could not be seen. Before I began to the second tree I had got dinner, and my wife had out a dry suit of clothes warming before the fire on the table, ready for me when I would come in wet, as the rain had come on to be heavier than before. As I said before, I had out one tree which hung to its fellow; and looking at my work before I began, I felt convinced I would get them down all right, as I thought they looked to fall in a contrary direction to the house, so that I felt no concern about the matter. However, to work I went, and in a short time the tree was pretty well cut on both sides the way I thought they would go; and looking up to see what movement might be above, an unlucky puff of wind came, when, crack, crack, went the trees, and with an awful sweep they fell – smash through the roof of the house. "Look out!" I cried, as I saw them swing. I heard a cry, but I could not see where I stood for half a minute. I felt stupified. When I came to myself, I threw my axe down and ran over the trees; my eyes reeled in my head when I saw the havoc. "Where are you?" I cried, in vexation; and glad I felt when my wife answered, "We are all here." I tried to get in by the door; but that was of no use. I scrambled over the broken boughs of the trees, and tore a hole through the fallen roof; first got a tin basin, which she handed me, and put out the fire, and then got out the two children safe; and she came next, with a sprained ankle and a bruised head. It was well things were not worse, although they were bad enough. It so happened, some time before this I had felled two trees, which lay alongside the house behind the chimney; one of them rested on the root of one that had fallen of itself before I built my house, and the other lay above that again a little crossed, which made somewhat like a low wall about four feet high, upon which the upper part of the trees fell, and prevented them from going to the ground, or else all lives inside the house would have been lost, for the tops of the trees went in over where she was sitting by the fire sewing, and the children by her on the floor playing themselves. She was

knocked from her seat, and got covered with rubbish, and when crawling to a clear place to a back part of the house opposite to where she had been sitting, she felt her foot held fast, and had to pull it out, but in so doing she somewhat sprained her ankle. However, when she got clear, she began to think, what if I were killed myself before I got to her assistance. The weather still seemed to get worse, and when I got them out they were truly a pitiable sight. Our next consideration was, where were we te go. "Leave me," was her reply, "and take the children with you, and see if you can find some shelter, and I shall wait till you return, for I can't walk." So, with the youngest on my back and the other at my foot, I went forth. I asked my nearest neighbour, whose land adjoined to mine, for the use of an old house, whose walls were all away, the roof only remaining supported by only a few posts. It was now a mere useless shed; but for what reason I cannot tell (as I was assured I had done him no harm), my request was denied. As he would not grant it, I proceeded farther, and entered another one's house, and was frankly received. I set down the children without much farther ado than merely telling what had happened, and so hastened to the scene of desolation. I found my wife upon her knees, lying against a log in a swoon. While coming along I met a friend, who returned with me, and kindly offered his assistance to take her to the place of shelter. She awoke as I touched her, and looked up as in astonishment; but we lost no time in having her removed, as the rain was still increasing. Suffice it to say, we got safe within doors, and another neighbour had come to condole with her misfortunes, and render what assistance she could, for which I felt exceedingly grateful. When going back to bring out my blankets and bedding I found my ungenerous neighbour busy with his axe cutting down the posts which bore up the old roof, as much as to say I should not be there. However, I was made us comfortable as circumstances would allow where I was received, though the accommodation was not large, besides the people having a large family themselves (which bespoke the more for their kindness), until I got my old habitation put to rights. This was no small task; the weather blew cold, and the rain fell constant for about two weeks while engaged at my work, and I had none to assist me. Many a time my hand, through handling the wet stuff about me, felt so cold that I could not put the tips of my fingers and thumb together. The days were short, and I could make but little progress alone, but by perseverance I got on by degrees. Sometimes when I would come in the morning to work, the cat would come crawling out of a spoiled hat-box, and, with a long, serious mew, would seem to say, "I pity your misfortune, but I cannot help you:" which made me oft, even amid such desolations, burst out into a fit of laughter. However, in about a fortnight I was enabled to re-enter my cottage with a thankful heart.

(3, p. 7.)

As if they could no longer dine
On flesh of grov'ling brutes called swine.

When Captain Hobson became Governor over New Zealand he fixed his seat at first at the Bay of Islands, and he let a considerable time pass before he paid Port Nicholson a visit. But when he came it appeared the good folks in this district had little else to set before his Excellency for dinner but pork, which, according to the gossip of the day, he did not well relish; accordingly shooters were sent abroad to procure pigeons, to make a variety on the dinner table. However, as he paid the people of Port Nicholson no more of his visits, the Newspaper authors of the day began to grumble about his absence, and at last they began to surmise a reason – namely, because he could have nothing when last here but "pork."

(4, p. 7.)

Unlike the kakas' noisy fits,
Unlike the thievish paroquets.

The kaka is a kind of parrot, of a reddish grey colour, and is easily tamed when taken young. When numbers meet round a tree-top, as they generally fly pretty high, they make a loud, harsh, disagreeable noise; but sometimes that kaw-ing noise is relieved by a call-like whistle – as calling some mate. The paroquet is what may be called a small parrot, about the size of a starling or measlethrush found in Scotland, nearly wholly of a pea-green colour, and having a red (nearly approaching to scarlet) ring round the upper part of its bill. Its habits are of a thievish and destructive nature, especially where grain is growing. They will assemble in great flocks at the edge of the clearing when the wheat is out in ear, and behead almost every stalk for at least a couple of yards round the wheat-patch border, sometimes nipping off the head and letting it fall, as well as taking others into the bush with them. But as they destroy more than they eat, they are the cause of a great deal of loss of crop, unless they are constantly watched and shot at to frighten them away – which seemed to form the reason, with the speaker, why the pigeons more than those referred to, should be allowed the enjoyment of peace.

(5, p. 8.)

When quite without that missive thunder,
Which works us death, though erst our wonder.

When we first landed in the Hutt District, of Port Nicholson at the commencement of this colony, many who went out a pigeon-shooting were quite amused at the seeming tameness of the birds, which seemed to take no notice of their pursuers, but sat upon the lower berry trees feeding while the muzzle of the fowling-piece or musket (such as it happened to be) was almost touching them, so seldom were they ever troubled before.

(6, p. 10.)

But strange the while,
In hunting us with no small toil,
To time they show but small respect,
And other great concerns neglect.

There certainly has been, from the first of the colony, no small portion of time lost in pigeon-shooting. I have seen several men who seemed to have more pleasure in going about with their guns than in preparing their ground for receiving their seed, so much taken up with the novelty of the game in looking for "good marks," though, as Franklin would say, they only proved bad ones.

CANTO II.

(l, p. 15.)

Te Aro Tot'ra line.

This place received its name from a number of large totara-trees which grew in the nighbourhood of the line of road, which place is about two and a half miles above the Hutt bridge, and was so called by the natives, which may be rendered, the Totara road. At the time referred to in the scope of the Poem the place was a dense forest, without the appearance of a clearing; and the road, if such it could be called, was merely a passage cut through

about a chain wide, but the logs lying on each side made the passage comparatively small, although some places by the roadside, where the logs had been burnt, and so cleared away, the natives had such patches fenced in and converted into potato gardens, leaving but small space for passage, which was rendered almost a puddle by the treading of cows and horses going in quest of food, gathering what they could from the low bushes and tufts of grass which grew along the way.

(2, p. 31.)

He said the ruling Governor
Had gone some ten degrees or more
Astray, lunatic.

Such was the opinion of one of the Auckland Newspapers, which was quoted in one of the Wellington Newspapers of the time, which was ready to give all kind of Government scandal as wide a circulation as possible.

(3, p. 32.)

Whom he most did favour.

The many favours which were shown to the Maories in and round Auckland brought upon the Governor not only the jealousy of the European settlers there, but also the stigmatic appellation of the "Maori Governor." But when he could no longer satisfy the demands of the natives to keep them quiet – such as horses, blankets, &c. – they began to get unruly, and so defied British authority; which led on to a declaration of war in the Auckland District and the Bay of Islands. A party of natives, headed by Honi Heke, a native chief, cut down the British flag-staff, plundered and much damaged the town by fire and otherwise, so that the inhabitants were glad to escape; although it was said that they did not seek life, but only the property by way of satisfaction.

(4, p. 33.)

Thus have they taken up the song
Of landlord's claims, postponed so long.

The land-claims was a subject which occupied the attention of the public for a considerable time, the settlement of which was

tardy in the extreme, and formed a seemingly lasting theme of animadversion and complaint with the newspapers. The landlords or holders of land grumbled much, as well as did the absentee agents, because they had no title valid in the estimation of law as a security whereby either to hold or sell. And the labourer looked upon the unsettled question as a reason why there was so little to do, and could not but join in with their complaints, with the hope that when that was settled work would become more abundant, and consequently wages would increase. While, at the same time, some of the neighbouring native chiefs, especially Rauparaha and Rangiheate, with their tribes, thought to take advantage of such affairs, and proscribe the land-marks, declaring all lands above two miles from the bay belonged to them, and that they had not had the payment for it, and therefore they claimed it. Accordingly the natives, under the directions of their leaders, cut a line across the Hutt valley, about the distance above-named from the shore of the Bay, and using threats to some to be off from the land they had above this line, and to some few who spoke civilly they granted leave to remain, although even to them they were often the cause of no small annoyance. These natives, seeing the advantage of cultivating potatoes to some extent, set about clearing and taking possession of the land, encouraged, no doubt, by the transactions of the Bay of Islands, and the Governor's remissness 2 of punishing the crimes that had been committed against the honour and peace of the British Crown. Such intrusions as above mentioned, and the jealousies arising therefrom, acted as a powerful impulse for the colonists in general to unite in preparing for war, and acting together for mutual defence; such as in the ease of the wealthier classes swearing in the poorer as special constables, next, by the Government aid, in building stockades, (these were built jointly by voluntary contributions, either in labour or cash, and by the Government expense,) and calling up of a volunteer local militia.

(5, p. 33)

So long's no skirmish happens here.

While the natives alluded to (in Note 4) retained the lands they had taken possession of in peace, they gave little or no occasion for anything of alarm. But as they had broken faith with the Land Commissioner, in not leaving the land at the expiration of the time agreed to, after they had received a goodly sum for their good-will – the militia was kept up for some time lest some out- burst should occur to endanger common good. Many of the mili-

tia were so well pleased with their employ that they seemed to wish it always to last, so that some of the serjeants talked of getting "uniform jackets," to replace the "blue serge shirts," about the time they were first disbanded.

(6, p. 34.)

Of taxes oft from us exacted.

Wellington had much cause of complaint in regard to the duties levied and raised in Port Nicholson, which were sent to the seat of Government at Auckland, there to be spent, while this place lay neglected, though much it required the use of its own dues and taxes for local improvements.

CANTO III.

(l, p. 43.)

And seek out breaches in the laws.

The speaker seems to refer to the practice of lawyers in our law courts, who seem more to pervert justice than to support it, according as they are paid, and the side of the question to which they are hired.

(2, p. 44.)

Pleased with his aim I've oft him spoke
Approving praise, and sung "more pork. "

It is certainly very praiseworthy in some of our early settlers of the humbler classes, in their endeavours to rise above the necessity of being obliged to earn a mere precarious subsistence from haughty lordlings, who would seem more to act the slave-driver than the laudable employer. In the evening, after the day's work was done to another, and after having been refreshed by the evening repast, but more inspired by the hope of being soon his own master, would many an humble cotter take the advantage of the moon's bright beams at his own work; so continuing often to a late hour, many of whom are now reaping the benefits of their hardy exertions. Although I have often done the same, I am sorry to add, as I believe, I am an exception.

(3, p. 45.)

One plump and large, the other thin.

The description of the two rats, with their conversations, is, I apprebend, a fit allegorical representation of the customs and circumstances which generally prevailed.

(4, p. 51.)

And where is San?

To save the reader any anxiety about him, I may here say, that it has been reported that he was found next morning in bed, but so battered and bruised that he could not be seen for a week, though some affirm for a fortnight. However, he was so long absent from the heels of his workmen that they began to suspect he was dead, and in order to show their affection for him they made out amongst themselves the following Epitaph.

(To be engraved on the upper edge of the stone.)

TO THE MEMORY OF OUR BELOVED MASTER,
SAN POLLYWORD.

(On this side, facing the east.)

Here lies Master San,
Mere shell of a man;
But whither his soul has gone
'Tis hard to tell;
Some say to – – ,
But others believe he had none.

(On that side, facing the west.)

And here lies Pollyword,
Who never could afford
Justice to his working man.
Lest he might break the peace
Where contentions should cease,
We have buried him not beside [San.

CANTO IV.

(1, p. 59.)

So they began to trade and sell
This land, before they could it call
Their own, &c. &c.

It is a remarkable fact, which shows the very unbusiness-like manner of doing, that the land was parcelled out in sections before it was known where such sections were to be had. Nay, even purchasers of the land paid for it before it was bought, or knew where the land lay. It was indeed very imposing to read, in some of the English journals, concerning the drawing of lots, which said, "when a native reserve ticket was drawn great cheering was made;" but this, when viewed through the medium of cool judgment, shows itself only to be a piece of deceit, when considered that such did not belong to them at the time, however much it showed a kind of charitable feeling; but it was only putting fancy in the place of reality, for when ships with emigrants were despatched, and when they arrived in the Straits, 3 the captains of such vessels had no small difficulty to learn to what port they were to steer, as the Directors of the Company could not give such information when they started, which shows on how much absurdity the formation of the Company rested at the outset.

(2, p. 59.)

But trusting to the toss of chance,
Or an o'erruling Providence, &c. &c.

It was, indeed, a lucky circumstance that the Port Nicholson tribe of natives, being at variance with another tribe whom this one somewhat dreaded, which induced the natives to part with their land to the interest of the New Zealand Company, because they were made to understand that they would then have powerful allies to defend them from the tribes they dreaded. Such considerations, with the goodly variety of warlike weapons along with the other things they received, were powerful inducements, which in themselves go far to confirm how much their success depended, at the time, as it were, on the "toss of chance."

(2, p. 60.)

..................Meanwhile
O'er the fair prospect, some would smile
As being fit to portion off,
A rising family, &c.

In the early part of our Colony's history, I think the beginning of the second year, the letters received by some land agents from their absentee constituents were, in some respects, rather amusing, as they displayed the great expectations such landowners entertained in reaping almost immediate benefits from their recent purchases of their land orders. One, for instance, writes to his agent, (Mr. Child,) thanking him for the great care he had taken in selecting his land, observing also, that as one section contains a great deal of very valuable timber, and another of an abundance of flax, he hoped that he would see to dispose of them to the best advantage, so that he might be able to realise from them a handsome profit.

(3, p. 63.)

Should he return with fortune, bright,
And set all seeming wrongs to right.

No doubt but many who left home, as it were, "on the sly," so as to escape the consequences of bankruptcy, had, nevertheless, some hopes, or rather a wish, to return and make amends for such seeming misconduct, instances of which has sometimes occurred. One I may here relate. A person belonging to Perth, in Scotland, failed in business, and privately absconded, fearing, through delicacy of disposition, to face his creditors; having eluded their knowledge, he made his way to Sydney, in Australia. There he continued for about seven years, and by active industry amassed a considerable fortune, yielding a handsome yearly income, during which time he was never heard of, and was given up for lost. However he again made his appearance in his native town, in mendicant's garb, as a very poor man. His appearance had somewhat altered, so that he was scarcely known, until he acknowledged he was indeed the person he so much resembled. In the character of a very poor man he asked assistance from one and another of his former creditors, but was refused, except from one, who gave him a few shillings with the advice to "put it to good use, and not waste it." Shortly afterwards, he caused a great dinner to be made ready in one of the chief hotels in the place, and invited all his creditors and former friends, who came, and were not a little surprised to see the superb style in which he was dressed, and the dinner that was laid out, to which he warmly

invited them to partake; saying, he now felt happy to meet them under such circumstances. When the cloth was removed and the bowl of punch set in the midst, he rose and said, "Let us fill our glasses, and so proceed to business." While the glasses were filling, he pulled a bag of gold from his coat pocket and his pocket book, and laid them on the table. This caused more surprise, when he said, "I mean now to settle all my accounts. Here's to good fortune!" he cried, raising his glass; "and I hope you will all do the same." The toast was responded to with all good will. Then he began to inquire how much of a claim each had against him. The amount altogether did not exceed £350, which he paid, with interest; but to the one who helped him with the few shillings and advice he paid with compound interest. "Now," said he, after he had paid all, "I hope you are all satisfied." To which all expressed entire satisfaction, and began each to tell him what they thought concerning his long absence, yet all allowed they never dreamed of seeing his face. But hoped that now, as he had again come among them, he would make himself contented to pass the remainder of his time with them. "Na, na!" was the reply; "I would not live in such a place as this is for all you could give me; but, however, let us spend this night in good will, for I must go back to where I came from in a day or two." But that day or two extended to more than a month, and when he went he took with him as his wife the eldest daughter of the one who bestowed on him the few shillings.

(5, p. 66.)

The labourer came,
But where was the employer?

This is one of the greatest evils connected with the once much lauded Wakefield system of colonization. In fact, it was no system of colonization, but only a credit system of land-jobbing, in so far as the principals were concerned – such as one set of speculators bought land, and paid for it from another set of speculators who sold it, and who yet had the land to find even after it was sold. Such was the mode of setting up the business of the system, – and also sending out labourers, to give their schemes some value in the eyes of land-purchasers; while these, instead of going to take possession of their land when it could be found, remained at home; and, no doubt, in this they displayed a good deal of what may be termed "low common sense." There were, it is true, a few land-purchasers who came out; but the most of these were in the hopes of obtaining their laud, and so begin operations upon it by themselves; so that from them – enterprising though their intentions were – the landless labourer could not hope to derive any benefit in the shape of employment and due remuneration. Some others, who came out expecting to be able to commence operations at once, went away disgusted with the place, when they saw the land could not be had at the time, and knew

not where it might be, and could not wait till it could be found for them – besides considering the denseness of the forest, and the expense it would cost in clearing. There were others who would have begun operations, but they could not get upon their land on account of it being so far out of the way, and the want of even the form of a road; while the land that was most available, and, so to speak, at hand, was owned by absentees, whose agents could give no employment on it, nor in some cases would dispose of it. 4

The Company which claimed ownership of the land at the time being did, according to promise, raise some employment for the immigrants, but it was merely of a nominal nature; and even the roads for opening up the Valley of the Hutt, and other districts – if roads they could be called – were not begun to, till after a good deal of delay, and some little grumbling and memorializing of the principal Agent by the resident landowners wishing to get a sight of where their land lay. 5 Though the roads, when they were begun, gave employment for the numerous labourer immigrants that had arrived, yet that did not at all relieve the colony from the curse of absenteeism that brooded over it. and to which may be traced all the trials and grievances to which the colony has been subjected.

(6, p. 66.)

While vauntingly they show'd address,
Fullless to govern than t'oppress.

The functionaries of the New Zealand Company, in carrying on their form of self-government, had begun to build a court-house

and council chamber, part of which had been erected, and also notices hud been printed and handed round, for the settlers to form themselves into a local volunteer militia, to be under the command of Colonel Wakefield, and to meet for drill and exercise once or twice a week. But in a day or so afterwards, and before the first muster took place, a deputation from the Colonial Government of Sydney came into port, and proceeded with a corporal's guard to pull down the N.Z. Co's flag, which had floated in the breeze since the land had been purchased, and raised the union-jack in its place. In a day or two afterwards, the principal Agent and some others were called to account by the magistrate sent from Sydney, who seemed to look upon the colonists in general as a set of runaway rebels, and the gentlemen before him as the ringleaders, setting up a republican government in opposition to the dignity of their lawful sovereign, the Queen. However, after the matter was fully explained to the satisfaction of the bench, the gentlemen at the bar were acquitted, after paying a fine of £5 each. But the matter did not rest here; a proclamation was issued, that no valuable timber in the forest was to be cut down for any purpose, and all timber found at the sawyers' pits after a certain day was to be forfeited. This was the occasion of a good deal of grumbling among the sawyers and timber-dealers, who set about taking away what timber they had at their pits in good time. After a few days, this grievance was mitigated by another notice, stating that licenses would be granted to sawyers and others for liberty to cut what timber they required.

Captain Hobson was appointed Lieutenant-Governor over New Zealand, under the Government of Sir G. Gipps, of New South Wales. When he came to New Zealand he set up bis seat of Government at the Bay of Islands, and there issued a proclamation, claiming all lands in this Colony as the property of the British Crown, granting only a circle round Port Nicholson of twelve miles radius, centreing at the Post Office, which stood on Thorndon Flat, for the use of the Company. This was another sad vexation to many who had chosen land beyond that boundary, as being obliged to give it up, and make another and inferior choice elsewhere, and to others who had expectations of getting sections beyond such bounds; but the most clamorous of disappointed owners of land orders were some agents of absentees. Great credit, however, is due to the exertions of the principal Agent, who went to the seat of Government (Bay of Islands) to negotiate affairs with the Lieutenant-Governor, though without effect, and also to Dr. S. Evans, Mr. Hanson, and others, who next went to Sydney on a like errand, and who, though they were untiring in their efforts at the Government offices in pushing the case of the colonists and the Company's claims, yet after all their endeavours they could get no satisfaction, and had to come away as it were with a sad disappointment, and which spread a darker gloom over the already shaded aspect of colonial affairs. But,

still further; the magisterial authority which prevailed in the settlement was that which belonged to a penal Government. The police, though of the Company's immigrants, were, it was reported, armed with pistols, and carried with them short batons, and had their pockets well stored with hand cuffs, and, as I have heard it affirmed, that they were expected to bring up as many culprits as would pay their wages, or be at the risk of being dismissed the service, and which served as a means to excite them sometimes to provoke a reason for dragging one up to judgment. In going along (he beach of Wellington, which was nothing of a smooth road, if one only knocked his foot against a stone in his haste so as to make him stammer along a few steps, he was suspected for being drunk, and consequently taken up and fined 5s., or have a few hours in the stocks if the fine would not be paid; or if one happened to go home from a social meeting of friends, quietly but rather late, he stood in great danger of being obliged to pass the remainder of the night in an uncomfortable and cold lock-up. Things went on in this way, though several remonstrances were made against such tyranny, till one morning Mr. Murphy, the then acting R. P. M., was rather surprised on seeing Dr. Evans, J. P., enter the bench and sit down alongside of him. After exchanging looks of unutterable things, Mr. Murphy asked what business he had there. The Doctor replied, looking hard at him through his spectacles, "I am come to see that justice is done in court." After some further conversation pro. and con. concerning the Doctor's intrusion, and finding him firm to his purpose. Mr. Murphy lifted his hat and walked out of court, leaving the "worthy Doctor" to transact the business of the day. This proved a great check to the then existing "rigours of the law."

(7, p. 66.)

...................Let the result,
Of all bad management the fault,
Now find its place.

The speaker here makes a sudden transition from the government of Captain Hobson, to near the close of that of Captain Fitzroy's career. The mismanagement here referred to is that of not fully securing the co-operation and sanction of the Home Government before proceeding with such precipitancy in the forming of a new Colony, which looked like the elopement of an unruly daughter with her lover, more than an honourable departure from her mother's house with the blessing of her parents – and consequently reaping the fruits of her imprudence.

8, p. 67.)

..............And see his roads,
Through which, pack-beast like, he his loads
Must bear, &c.

Some time after the company had got repossessed of the lands they formerly laid claim to, they commenced to open up the country by cutting lines of roads through the bush. They were only lines, but through the softness of the ground, and the closeness of the high bush on each side keeping the road from the influence of sun and air. and by the heavy rains which fell in winter, with also the treading of cattle to and fro, the roads soon became a complete puddle, insomuch one was scarce able to pass along dry-shod, even with waterproof boots. Such was the state of the road leading from the Hutt Bridge to the Taitai; and when one had to carry on his back any of his luggage or provisions from market, as horses and carts or even bullocks were rare, and the owners were loath to risk them upon such roads, it was certainly no easy task. Yet I have known several who located themselves about the Taitai, and had to receive their supplies, such as potatoes and flour, as payment for work done, and had to carry them home (a distance of three and a half miles) through such roads. Yet, strange to say, that bad although the roods were, no endeavours were ever made to improve them, or put them in any sort of repair, during the time of the reigning Government of that period.

(9, p. 7.)

I've known him glad to fare
On meanest substitutes.

Many were the privations and discomforts to which various of the labouring classes were subjected, during these times, through the scarcity of employment; while the overreaching and fraudulent dealings of some who pretended to be employers – of which several instances could be given – added not a little to the sorrows of the day. In order to eke out a scanty meal, not a few have been obliged to search the bush sometimes for necho, to obtain their hearts, to make up by a little art in cooking what might be termed a meal, and on which to do a hard day's work. 6 I have even heard one mother relate to another, by way of recommenda-

tion, how she has taken young sowthistle, and boiled it up with a little salt, to satisfy the hunger of her children, when she had nothing else to give them, because her husband's master would not serve him that day with a little flour, even though it was due.

(10, p. 67.)

How much of enterprise I've seen
In fruitless labour lost, &c.

Many were the efforts of the colonists to raise something marketable, both to prevent the necessity of importing what we could make, so as to keep the cash in the colony, and to raise something of an export, to serve as an exchange for the necessaries we required. a little oil and a little wool, raised in the neighbouring districts, were the only articles of export then extant, but very limited. In order to increase such trade, one of the Provincial Papers pointed out the fact of the abundance of edible fish in the bay and round our shores, and advised that a company be formed to begin a fishing and curing establishment, and showing where a ready market could be found, &c. But in this case the spirit of enterprise was not to be found in the community. But still there were private endeavours made in other ways, and which endeavours, aiming at something good, deserve credit, but which, like the half-blown flower frost-bitten reaches not to full bloom, so they, blasted in their energies, could not complete what their intentions had begun. Some of our merchants made a praiseworthy exertion to do something by way of collecting different kinds of hard timber and what may be termed fancy woods, and different kinds of barks for tanning, dyeing, &c, to try and raise an export trade for such things homeward; but that was soon crushed, and with it many an ephemeral hope; and for a long time afterward could be seen many a log prepared "to order," lying along the beach as a thing neither required nor looked after, which told its own tale of fruitless labour. A few individuals (a Mr. Sprat, and others) formed themselves into a party to commence a rope-making establishment, they themselves preparing the raw flax for their own use. They had fixed on the opposite side of the bay, near Olongolong, as the scene of their operations to obtain a livelihood. But in crossing in a boat with their apparatus, through some accident the boat upset, and all perished. Others, and I myself among the rest, 7 have spent much time and expense in endeavouring to bring the flax into a marketable commodity. But the works, as they stood seemingly deserted, in themselves declared the disappointment, as if they cried, "Alas! alas!" I have seen a neatly

built lime-kiln, on the face of the hill near Kai-warra, where some burning of shells had been accomplished; but that, too, whs deserted. Other instances might be mentioned, would my space allow. In fact, every active man's mind, through the exegencies of the time, seemed to be more or less unhinged; and instances are known of some, through a state of despondency, who have laid rash hands upon themselves, or wandered away, and were no more heard of, until, after the lapse of some time, their remains were found in the bush. In the country very little was doing in the shape of cultivation, unless it were merely a small patch for one's own use, by any who had got as much bush cleared away. And whatever payments were made for labour by some employers, who tried to supply the market (and employers were few), were mostly in the shape of barter – such as in provisions reckoned at the highest rate. 8 Money was so scarce, and by those who happened to have it, it was held so sacred, that it could not be seen, as the chief money then in circulation were Government debentures from £1. to 5s., and dealers' (so-called) "shin-plasters," varying from 1s. to 1 1/2d, so that by some even the size of a sixpence was almost forgot. The business of sawing timber, which brought at one time from 20s. to 25s. per 100 feet, was now reduced to 5s. or 6s. per 100 feet, and that to be delivered where a boat (as carts or drays were not in vogue) could get it, by rafting it down the rivers – for which only goods to the amount could be obtained from timber dealers, and even that was looked on as a kind of favour. The mind of every one who had seen better were put quite on the rack what to do for the best. Some, for lack of other employment whereby to earn a crust, betook to the cleaning of flax after the fashion of the natives, and sold it to the merchants at about 1 1/2d. per lb., thereby earning from 1s. 6d. to 2s. 6d. per day. Such was the state of the times during the last eighteen months of Captain Fitzroy's government.

(11, p. 69.)

Whose chief persists,
To stick to stingy interest's laws,
As in discounts he makes a pause
Akin to – – - No!

Our Wellington merchants felt the pressure of the times in some degree analogous to that felt by the working man, although in some respects of a different kind. For instance, the working man or labourer felt the scarcity of remunerative employment so as to meet the daily wants of a young family, while the merchant felt a scarcity of cash to enable him to make such purchases whereby be

could realise a sure return with profits as the source of his livelihood, unless the Manager of the Bank would advance the means. At this time of difficulty the Manager gained to himself the cognomen of "Johnny Box," because of his stinginess; and it was said of him, in one of the letters which sometimes figure in the columns of the Wellington Independent Newspaper, that he believed in nothing but oil, wool, and flax – showing that only on such things he would grant discounts on bills. Besides, I heard a merchant say, that when he wanted to get a bill discounted he had only to draw a piece of flax under Johnny's nose, which was to him a powerful charm in softening his heart.

(12, p. 71.)

And sway'd by faithlessness intense,
In an overruling Providence,
They've pack'd their baggage and have gone.

There were a few gentlemen who might have done something in the way of clearing their land, and so giving employment even to the men they brought with them. But it appears they only came for a different purpose – namely, only to watch the chances of the land market, and realise the highest price possible, and so be gone. About the time of the disturbances arising at the Bay of Islands several, having sold their lands at good profit, now thought it high time to be off, lest they should be overtaken by the threatening storm.

(13, p. 73.)

Him she appoints to govern right
Has a compound of blue and white,
Which mixture, I'm inform'd, is "GREY."

Solomon says, "As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country;" and such seemed to be the experience of the colonists, when they heard of the appointment of Sir G. Grey as Governor-in-Chief over New Zealand. We heard with heartfelt satisfaction of the benefits derived from his administration over South Australia, and of his unwearied exertions for the welfare of the community at large. We felt heart sick of the circumstances in which we were one and all of us placed, and the prospect of having soon such a man amongst us quite revived our spirits with the hope that, what whatever good he effected in the one place, he would surely do the same in this. Nay, we even felt as confident of it as if such things were accomplished. Such were the expectations and hopes with which we looked forward to the future while labouring amid the deep waters of adversity. Nor have we (when I say we I mean chiefly the labouring classes, although, that little word may include all) been in the least disappointed.

(14, p. 73.)

To many prove the rise to wealth,
And much restore the public health
Now sunk so low.

In former Notes I have given some illustrations of the depressed state of the times before Sir G. Grey was appointed Governor over New Zealand; but time and appearances now loudly declare the great alterations that have occurred in people's circumstances; for instance, many who once could scarce get a shoe to their foot can now ride upon their own horses; and many who sometimes did not know where or how to obtain a meal's victuals, can now boast of their many broad acres of land and of the number of their cattle. Look also at the improvements which show themselves now everywhere compared with what before they were. Through him chiefly the working man found employment, through which channel benefits more or less have flowed to all. In other respects industry has been roused to greater activity – money, the great stimulus of society has got into circulation, so that every one now, comparatively speaking, enjoys a happiness which can be read in their faces, and which they once little expected ever to experience. Nay, the bitterest of our Governor's enemies, whatever shade of polities they may profess, must also acknowledge, even at the slightest retrospect, that times with him have indeed wonderfully improved.

(15, p. 73.)

When man in peace shall till the soil,
Nor longer care our joys to spoil.

Pigeon shooting seemed to be the rage of the day, instead of other ordinary labours; so that it appears the pigeons seemed to feel the effects of the times referred to above. But the speaker seemed to show that other times were coming, when man would derive more profit in cultivating the lands he would acquire under the Governorship of Sir G. Grey, than in seeking their lives – so allowing them the enjoyment of their ancient privileges; and I believe such is now generally the case!

END OF THE NOTES

1 The necho, or neko, is a large tree-like plant known elsewhere as the mountain cabbage, and grows here to a considerable height. Its leaves extend from six to ten feet in length, and consist of a thick stem tapering off to a point, with a groove running up the centre; along each side branch out bayonet- shaped leaves, from two to three inches apart and from two to three feet long, and which may look much like a peacock's feather. These, when placed closely together, with the side leaves interwoven, form, under another layer of leaves, a good covering for a rough bush cottage.

2 The Governor sent to Sydney for troops and when they came they were sent back as if they were not required.

3 Such was the case with the Captain of the Bengal Merchant.

4 When first I bethought myself of obtaining a lease of a piece of land, I called upon a certain land agent, who held his agency in Co. with another. "Well," said he, before I had time to speak, eyeing me through his glasses and rubbing his hands, "I suppose you have come to pay some rent." "Rent! No, sir!" said I. "I have come to inquire whether you have any land to let " "Oh, take a seat," said he, shuffling some papers aside. Mr. – – - will shortly be in, and he'll show you the map." Mr. – – - came in, and my errand was made known; then I was taken to Mr. – – -'s lodgings, with the map; it was shown to me; but when he learned I had no "capital," the map was rolled up, and I was advised to have nothing to do with it. Instances of difficulties of a very serious nature such as getting lost in the bush, arising from the careless supineness of agents, could be given if space wou'd allow.

5 At that time several gentleman landowners, resident then in the colony, among whom was Dr. Evans, offered to assist the principal Agent with the aid of their "purses" – which could be rendered "cash" – in order to open up a road into the Hutt district, on the faith that the Company would return it; but such an offer was declined by the Agent.

6 This, and many other facts of a like nature, which might be mentioned if required, I felt pleased to hear confirmed at some of our political discussions in the Hutt, but I hope the above will suffice at present to show what many of the early settlers have endured.

7 I may here say that I have still my hopes of seeing this affair brought into practical use at no great distant date if nothing hinders.

8 For instance – flour was in market at the time referred to varying from 15s. to 20s. per 100 lb., and was doled out to workmen with "great care" at 4 1/2d. per lb. – other things at a like rate.

THOUGHTS ON THE WAIRARAPA.

THOUGHTS

ON THE

WAIRARAPA.

(Written while resting at Mr. Donald's Station, Manaia, October 16, 1853.)

How vast the prospect Wairarapa yields
Of great extensive plains! Unlike the Hutt
Or other valleys, pleasant though they be,
Coop'd up in narrow space by lofty hills,
Like prison walls, which limit much the range
Of vision, and a baleful influence shed
Upon the intellect, as bowing down
The soul that would aspire, and cramping much
Its energies with sad decrepitude.
But here – oh! what a change! – we seem set free
From close confinement. Here the roving eye
Delights t'expatiate with full stretch of power;
The soul exults with inward ecstacy,
As if it bounded with elastic force
From earth to heaven – so much overjoy'd!
It feels a freedom tongue can scarce express
Contemplating the wide surrounding scene.
Aye! what a scene! An open wilderness
Without inhabitant! where nature's rich
Abundance runs to waste. Though here and there
A stockman's cottage stands, long miles between,
As a good journey neighbours would divide, –
Can such a land be called inhabited
How like a hermitage each homestead stands!
Or like a rock above the ocean's waves –

A solitary spot. Yon little hills –
Like ramparts which surround some mighty camp
Long since deserted – only serve to mark
The bound'ry of some country stretching far
Beyond, whose loneliness proclaims aloud
This sad complaint – "There's no inhabitants!"
There Nature, like some antiquated maid,
Would, wear its sweetest smiles and best attire
To court admirers; yet to small effect,
Though full of hope that she may have success.
A virtuous hope it is! – that she may yield
To many her best blessings, and increase
Her gifts the more that she is raised above
This solitary state, and all her wastes
Are brought, by active industry, to change
Their aspects wild to those of fertile joy.

Far in the distant south, from where I stand,
The Rumahaunga rolls, with rapid sweep,
Its greyish flood; while winding on its course,
In serpentine sublimity, scooped out,
Receiving ev'ry tributary stream,
Of no small import; adding to its force,
Chafing the base of many a lofty cliff
Of rock-like clay, the which, (though frowning high
With perpendicular steepness o'er the deep,)
Oft sapp'd below, must fall with fearful plunge.
But see its holmes extending wide and clad
With vegetation of luxuriant growth!
Declaring what fertility abounds,
As if exhaustless – waiting to be turn'd
To more account in benefiting man.

Far to the north, and rounding to the west,
The sky would seem to stoop, saluting earth;
And there, as forming the horizon's bound,
An undulating scene of hill o'er hill
Appears, with many dells indented deep,
Adorn'd with forests to their ridges high;
Yet all seem rising with a gentle slope
From yon extensive plains. But high o'er all
The Tararua range upheaves its head,

As claiming kindred with the northern Alps,
Whose summits treat with scorn the thundercloud,
'Mid azure skies, all white with lucid snow,
Which seem to cry, "Dread nought from overdrought;
Behold in me the source of flowing rills."

Those belts of forests, as they stretch along,
Or isolated clumps which stud the wilds,
Seem, as design'd to variegate the scene,
And form a hedge to break the force of storms
From too severely sweeping o'er the plains;
Or they, in contemplation of the time
When habitants would settle here their homes,
Have been by Nature planted, to prepare
And meet the future wants of those who may
See fit to honour her with their regards.
There the wild pigeon, dreading nought from man,
Coos o'er his head, as, with a friend's salute,
T'would bid "Good morning," as he plods his way,
A weary winding cattle track, and lone,
Chequer'd with light and shade; while other birds
Enliven would his loneness with their strains.

Compared with the extent of spreading plains
How dwindled such plantations! 9 – which proclaim
This solemn truth: – Though the foundation's laid,
Man must put forth his industry to rear
The structure to completion; and exert

His energies to tame what may be wild
To suit his purpose, – or of bestial tribes,
Or circumstances, which surround his way. –
He must make his own comforts, make his works
Appear a transcript of his nobler parts,
Hewn out of Nature's roughness; and supply
Deficiencies where found, which will declare
His worth superior – Heaven's vicegerent – MAN!

That th' earth should be replenished is the will
Of Heav'n made known to man; but how that will
Has been complied with, all around declare!
New Zealand natives, rank'd as hostile tribes,
Each other would exterminate, 10 and fill
The land with horrid cruelty and strife;
To whom the sacred arts of civil life,
And peace, have hitherto been quite unknown;
While they, degen'rating to the mere brute
Of savage nature, hateful to the thought!
Instead of rising to that state of mind,
Which Heav'n regards with pleasure, and will bless
As th'image of Himself! Alas! for war,
And love of fiendish rage! Such ill accords
With the wise purpose of creating God.

Though long in patience such has been allow'd,
Yet, is the the time not hast'ning its approach
When this, like other lands in ancient days,
Must be transferr'd unto another race?
While to Sir George's influence and power,
And to McLean's activity and pains,
Much praise are due, as interposing means
Extinguishing the claims of native chiefs
By purchase! rather than aggressive war;
Thus levelling great obstructions, which waylaid
The course of civilisation, and the bliss

Attending its career for mutual joy.
The natives, once the terror and the scourge
Of either, now are raised, as from a trance,
By th' impulse of advantages which rise
From civilisation; whose concurrent bliss,
Which, to possess, they seem as glad to part
With these waste wilds, they cannot occupy!

'Tis thus o'erruling Providence is seen
To bless each effort British power puts forth
As "Heav'ns messenger," diffusing peace,
And op'ning up new fields of outlet, where
Britannia's enterprising sons might come,
From teeming thousands and o'ercrowded lands, –
Where blissful energies are often crush'd B
y oppositions hard to be overcome; –
And with them bring the lib'ral arts of peace
T'exalt the glories of Victoria's reign!

Oh! is the time far distant when these hills
And plains extending shall be parcell'd out
To active owners? – when their flocks and herds
Shall wake the dull air with their living sound? – -
And when this great monotony of scene
Enliven'd be by towns and hamlets fair, 11
With church-spires pointing upwards, as to guide
The thoughts of man to heaven! or when th'expanse
Be roused from slumb'rings by the peal of bells;
Or when, like a large garden parcell'd out
In seed-beds, there the hedge-surrounded fields
Shall wave with golden grain, to crown the toil
Of hardy husbandry, and interspersed
With verdant flowery lawns. Aye! sure 'tis thus
The desert will be gladden'd, and exchange
An aspect dull to that of grateful joy.

Hard is the labour yet to be bestow'd
To bring such large uncultivated wilds
To due subjection. But an ample scope
Is here spread out, inviting enterprise
In even generations yet to come!
T'unfold resources lying still obscure;
And make those prairies waken into life;
And raise supplies to make New Zealand prove
Itself the purveyor of the Southern world.

Such noble undertakings best will show
The spirit of indubitable worth
Existing largely in th'enlighten'd minds
Of old Britannia's sons; alike expert
In war defensive, or the spread of peace.
Aye! such will be display'd, examples meet
To be transcribed by other nations' sons,
And graven on their souls! aye, more than when
Great deeds are done by her victorious arms!

And may these lines, to future ages, tell
The worth of those, already who stand forth
The hardy pioneers of future things!
Who. – like the patriarchs of old, who trode
Large lands, and they sole occupants! – have come
To this interior, far from friendly joys,
To tend their flocks and herds. What trials they
Must have endured, – but have been o'ercome!
Tell more than flowing language can express,
Of courage to be had in high esteem,
And imitated still in future days!
Nay, more, in hospitality they vie
To passing strangers! as a lesson fraught
With reasons sound, and which to every heart
Speaks its own praise, and homeward thrusts th'appeal,
"Come, thou, and prosper as we here have done!"

9 From various vestiges I have seen, I have reason to believe that several districts have at one time been more greatly wooded than they now are, and also which bespoke a greater native population in such places, and also where both wood and population seem to be extinct. By taking a survey of the country from the top of some eminence, one can see hundreds of square miles of land around that do not own a tree, where no doubt at one time plenty grew. I would humbly recommend to settlers going into such districts, to lose little time in planting young timber belts round their bare lands, which would prove of service now and of value at a future period. In so doing, I would suggest the introduction of the larch, Scotch fir, oak, ash, and beech, &c, and some of the Australian hard timber trees, such as blue gum stringy bark, &c, along with the most renowned of the native trees – all which will be of advantage at another time.

10 I was shown the site of a native pa, or village, in which, some eleven or twelve years ago (I believe during the winter of 1840 or 1841), one night, Rangiheate, with his tribe, surprised and slaughtered about 300 natives – which place, I now understand, is near the proposed site of the new Small Farm Settlement Township.

11 Though the Wairarapa is at present merely a grazing district, I have no doubt but that, at a future period, it will become the scene of many manufactories, as many of the elements of manufacture are of extensive and increasing demand will there be found, as soon as the spirit of enterprise and capital combined can see it their interest to turn their attention in that direction.

TO MR. JAMES NICHOLSON, STRATHAVEN, SCOTLAND.

TO

MR. JAMES NICHOLSON,

STRATHAVEN, SCOTLAND,

AUTHOR OF "WEEDS AND WILD FLOWERS."

Hail! brother Bard; – by this endearing name
Allow me thus to call thee; – for my soul
With thine full kindred would it fondly claim,
Though thee I cannot to my mind recall
In school-boy days; – though oft my fellows all
I have recounted, as in full array
My thoughts would from the distant past them call,
As risen from the dead. Such visions gay
Have gladden'd me, – though grieved to think they could not stay.

Yes, brother Bard, with pleasure thee I hail!
Your "Weeds and Wild Flowers" shed a sweet perfume
Regaling to my soul; nor do they fail
To wake each dormant thought, and would illume
My dark forgetfulness, so as t'assume
New life, fresh vigour, to retrace my steps
In retrospect; – reviewing scenes, whilom
Frequented in my youth, where you, perhaps,
Have wander'd as ye sung, with no less buoyant hopes!

"Let Straven prosper!" is my earnest prayer; –
And may it own a bard that's worth the name;
In thee, may it have honour, thus to share
In the mementos of thy future fame!

And may kind Heaven still impart that flame
Of love divine, ye foster in your soul,
So worthy of the muse; and may no shame
Detract from those pure pleasures which console
Thy passions, as ye sing of Nature's ample whole.

STRATHAVEN? – Yes! – to me that name is dear,
'Tis written on the tablet of my heart!
The object of all filial love sincere
There dwells – a faithful MOTHER! – whose desert
Is 'bove expression! May she long impart
To all the social meetings of my Brothers,
As they assemble round her, that best part
Of earthly joys, "Affection's bond!" that gathers
In one embrace their hearts, 'mid fortune's changeful weathers.

And there the ashes of my kin outworn
Lie mingled. Thither to their resting-place
By six young sons 12 a father once was borne
In mournful silence. Now his hopeful race
Around have risen. May no sad disgrace
E'er blot his name, who long has been revered
By all that knew him well – nor yet deface
From memory his virtues, which have cheered
His rising scions as they've onward persevered.

But me! ah, me! a wand'rer far removed –
The "Georgium Sidus" of that circle, where
My Brothers, with their satellites beloved,
Around that only centre left, now share
In its attractive influence – nay, there
I'm oft in spirit, though in body far; –
May Heav'n still bless them all! and from all care
Defend them in their sojourn through life's war;
And crown their hopes with joys that last for evermore.-

The "weeds and wild flowers" of my native vale.
Would form a wreath entwining round my heart!
Though many cares would daily me assail.
Their fragrance of remembrances impart
A soothing balm! – a pleasing counterpart
Of heav'nly blessings, granted to the soul!
May still such happiness be thy desert
When painful cures, usurping, dare control
Thy peace, through Him who best can prove thy all in all!

And what are garden flowers? but only weeds
Where not required, though rear'd by careful toil
In flow'ring plots! While those of other seeds.
Which have no claim to any foreign soil
And are call'd weeds, – they beauties have the while
That native are, attractive to the eye
Of nature's true admirers; fit to foil
The fancies of a novice, who'd decry
Those counted common, though unbred to culture high.

The mountain daisy, and the primrose meek,
Have beauties rivalling the choicest rose;
Even carnations gay, which would bespeak
Much admiration, can they well oppose
The water-lily, as it humbly grows
By the way side? or cowslips of the dell?
Or golden crowfoot, as it sweetly blows
'Mid verdant meads? or many more which dwell
Beneath the shelt'ring hedge? or moorland heather bell?

All such have beauties, 'tractive to the eye,
Though humble be the stations they assume;
Such teach us lessons fraught with morals high
In worth and true sublimity; through whom
The laws of Providence, proclaim'd, illume
The meditative soul with truths sincere
And not to be mista'en. May we presume
One truth to draw, amongst the many – clear
As evidence could have, or demonstration sheer!

The labour'd muse may boast of letter'd lore
And swell his numbers to a lofty strain,
And sing of scenes affecting not the shore
Of his nativity, – though these complain
Of his neglect – desirous to attain
A lofty station in the courts of fame.
And what though he, through struggles hard, should gain
The height attempted, and assume a name
Of pride, while the learn'd world is fill'd with his acclaim?

Th'unletter'd muse, affecting no such heights,
And scarcely soars beyond his native vale
Speaks to the heart his rapturous delights
In sweet simplicity; – or if the tale
Of woe is sung, his sympathies prevail
O'er rougher natures, till the starting tear
Of pity, would declare with great avail
The humble minstrel's power in language clear, –
Which shews him "the true born" above his high compeer!

What multitudes would imitate the strain
Of the true bard! and such declare their own!
To what may they be liken'd? To that train
Of artificials, nature would disown
As of her workmanship! – Though there be shewn
The near resemblance of her tints, so fine
To pleasure vanity: yet having none
Of all those living virtues, which combine
To mock pretension's aim, unstamp'd. by "truth divine!"

But thou, if thou hast been the village child,
Led by the impulse of thy innate muse
Abroad contemplating those scenes, now wild,
Which spoke of former days, then quite abstruse
To thy young wondering thoughts; who can refuse
T'admit the truth of heavenly gifts bestow'd
Upon thy soul. – And such may ye still use
As strengthen'd by thy years, t'observe abroad
And sing of nature's charms, which point to nature's God.

Here have ye struck the chords, that sweetly thrill
Their symphonies upon my throbbing heart;
And would call up remembrances which will
Be ever sacred held, when I apart
From playmates oft would roam, but still alert
T'enjoy those pleasures solitude bestows
On thoughtful minds, oft wandering athwart
Some flowery field, or where the streamlet flows,
Or by some lonely dell which ragged scenes disclose.

Strathaven castle! hoary, ancient pile!
Which long has stood the ravages of time;
Its legend, in my schoolboy days would wile
Some tedious hours away! – a truant's crime! –
There oft I've linger'd, marking the sublime
Of frowning ruin, on its greensward hill,
And wond'ring sadly if its tales could chime
With honest truth, while clambering with good-will
The grassy steeps above Pomillion's winding rill.

Long after nightfall have I stay'd to hear
The lullaby, oft talk'd of being heard,
With sound of cradle rocking; 13 – but my ear
Was ne'er by such accosted; though oft scared
By wild imagination, which ne'er spared
More cowardly companions for a run; –
When stopping, one, aghast, would have declared
How he had seen a ghost – and how undone
He felt – to him "no joke," – though others would make fun!

Methinks, e'en now, I see some daring youth,
As oft I've seen, scale high its rugged wall
To rob the martin's nest – too bad, forsooth! –
Or on the staircase top some standard tall
Be planting, or a windmill ricket-call,
Whirling to ev'ry breeze with rattling noise,
Heard far and near; but as the midnight squall
Increases, how the neighbours it annoys,
Who, sleepless, toss and growl, and scorn the rascal boys.

What deeds are done in youth, which riper age
Would hold in scorn, so follow'd with regret;
Oh! had he but the wisdom of the sage
To curb unruly passions, which beset
His ardent nature! and which oft will whet
More keenly the desire for other deeds
More daring – how such wisdom would beget
A readiness to crush at once the seeds
Of crime triumphant, which oft grow as rankling weeds.

With thee, in thy excursion, I could join,
Cheer'd with thy company; and with goodwill
Extend it to the Clyde, where woodbines twine
The leafy bowers, where flowers above the rill
Look down on their reflected beauties, still
Enamour'd with their charms. Or westward rove
To Drumclog heath, or climb up Loudon hill,
There viewing scenes that might our feelings move,
Enraptur'd with their tales, which passions sweet behove.

Ah! brother bard, in this far southern clime,
Amid primeval forests though I roam,
Or where the mountains rear their heights sublime,
Whose woody grandeur well the scenes become; –

My upmost thoughts are oft afar "at home,"
'Mid pleasing walks, where tender friendships grew;
While flowery lawns and sunny braes, where some
Most joyous hours were spent, would rise in view,
Aye, then I've felt it hard my feelings to subdue.

Though sweet to sing the pleasing scenes of youth,
With such enjoyments, to remembrance dear!
Yet there are themes possessing weightier truth,
Regard demanding from the muse sincere;
Nor can we but such calls from Him revere,
Who did our souls with such a gift inspire.
And with it His command's imposed, as clear,
His praise to publish as we tune the lyre,
In others' souls, so frigid, light love's sacred fire.

'Tis needful, too, as incidents require,
To tune the harp with independent mind.
And so decry, with true satiric fire,
The glaring follies of the wilful blind; –
Which as a mirror serves! to show defined
The real character he would abhor
In others! howe'er much he's disinclined
To see himself portray'd. – Yet ne'er the more
Tis duty! to make others their foul deeds deplore.

But sweeter far to tune the sacred lyre!
To sing the anthems of redeeming love!
Such themes sublime! to which we would aspire,
Though feeble the attempt; let it behove
Us here to learn, until we're call'd above: –
Ah! then our harps will ring a loftier strain;
No sad emotions, then, our hearts shall move;
No earthly crosses, then, shall give us pain,
Where endless joy abounds, and raptures high obtain!

Sing on! my brother, – let the worldling sneer; –
Improve the talent God to thee has given.
Though weak the effort, onward persevere!
Assured of the approving smiles of Heaven!

What though with earthly cares thou mayst have striven?
'Tis but the lot of many a high-born soul!
Have courage! be not back by trials driven,
Nor let despair becloud from sight the goal,
Where joy triumphant shall inspire thy passions all.

Aye me! – I've need of such advice myself,
As I've my share of trials to endure
Other than what concerns pursuit of pelf –
Though hard my daily toil, but to procure
Life's sustenance. Yet thee I can assure
That gives me pleasure, – 'tis the lot of man,
By Heav'n's decree; and that, with motives pure!
Oh! let us then submit to His wise plan,
Nor dare with discontent presume His ways to scan!

But let me close; – with hopes your muse shall cull
More posies from the weeds that round you grow,
And wild flowers, whose abundance, ever full,
Your meads bespangle and where streamlets flow;
And with such pleasing ploy may thy heart glow
With warm delights, becoming the unfolder
Of nature's hidden beauties; – and bestow
On me one "bab," 14 who'll grateful be a holder,
Your humble and obedient servant,
........................WILLIAM GOLDER.

FINIS.

WELLINGTON: PRINTED AT THE "INDEPENDENT" OFFICE.

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[Back cover]

12 The seventh then lay in his cradle, but is now (at the age of 18 years) lying with his father.

13 There is an old tradition, connected with feudal times of the old castle, still handed down from one generation to another, with which I have often been treated in my school-boy days by those who lived in the neighbourhood of the old ruin – namely, Lord Avondale's only daughter, having bestowed her affections on his hated rival, young Lord Hardiknute, of Craignathan, and to whom she had yielded herself beyond the dictates of prudence, was – in a fit of the old Lord's indignation – built up alive in a niche in one of the castle's dungeons with her babe. On that account, it is said, that a lullaby is heard in the dead hour of night, &c.

14 A nosegay, or posy of lowers.

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