Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/133

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Onawe.
97
A longing to leave the paths and plains
Wherever the feet might rove,
For a hut on the shady range, to share
The Mountain Spirit’s love !

Daughters of pine-clad valleys!
Sons of Zealandia’s state!
Children of splendour! The Spirit calls,
How long shall your answer wait?
A claim on the mountain range is yours,
However its peaks may rise—
For Ye are the Spirit’s heirs—whose throne
Cloud-lapped in the ranges lies.

John Maclennan.

LVI.

Onawe.

Peaceful it is: the long light glows and glistens
    On English grass;
Sweet are the sounds upon the ear that listens;—
    The winds that pass

Rustle the tussock, and the birds are calling,
    The sea below
Murmurs, upon its beaches rising, falling,
    Soft, soft, and slow.—

All undisturbed the Pakeha’s herds are creeping
    Along the hill;
On lazy tides the Pakeha’s sails are sleeping,
    And all is still.