Читать книгу An Old New Zealander; or, Te Rauparaha, the Napoleon of the South. - T. Lindsay Buick - Страница 2

Alas! my heart is wild with grief:

There rises still

The frowning hill

Of Kapiti, in vain amid the waters lone!

But he, the chief,

The key of all the land, is gone!

Calm in the lofty ship, O ancient comrade, sleep,

And gaze upon the stillness of the deep!

Till now, till now,

A calm was but a signal unto thee

To rise in pride, and to the fray

Despatch some martial band in stern array!

But go thy way,

And with a favouring tide

Upon the billows ride,

Till Albion's cliffs thou climb, so far beyond the sea.

Thou stood'st alone, a kingliest forest tree,

Our pride, our boast,

Our shelter and defence to be.

But helplessly – ah, helplessly wast thou

Plucked sword-like from the heart of all thy host,

Thy thronging "Children of the Brave,"

With none to save!

Not amid glaring eyes;

Not amid battle cries,

When the desperate foes

Their dense ranks close:

Not from the lips of the terrible guns

Thy well-known cry resounding o'er the heath:

"Now, now, my sons!

Now fearless with me to the realms of Death!"

Not thus – not thus, amid the whirl of war,

Wert thou caught up and borne away afar!

Who will arise to save?

Who to the rescue comes?

Waikato's lord – Tauranga's chief,

Thy grandsons, rushing from their distant homes,

They shall avenge their sire – they shall assuage our grief.

While you, the "Children of the Brave,"

Still sleep a sleep as of the grave,

Dull as the slumbering fish that basks upon the summer wave.

Depart then, hoary chief! Thy fall —

The pledge forsooth of peace to all —

Of Heaven's peace, so grateful to their God above,

And to thy kinsmen twain, by whom

Was brought us from the portals of the "land of gloom,"

This novel law of love —

This law of good:

Say, rather, murderous law of blood,

That charges its own crimes upon its foes —

While I alone am held the source whence these disasters rose!