Select Poetry.

Hawke's Bay Weekly Times, Volume 2, Issue 104, 28 December 1868, Page 311

Select Poetry.

TJbeßl»riejHofwopiea,anathelr.inrantß* wall— Wild.screams for mercy—groans of vain despair— Alike tiaav age foferwif hout'aVail. c • Homesruin’dr-smUlngflelds again laid bare. Nor horror panting to complete tie tale— The wounded/ slaughtered,as’!.' they helpless •'•j- cower’d •. t v AndHeavenJ by fiendish cannibals devour’d. ’Tis (torn New Zealand—where the Maoris now . Eage unrepell’a, and 1 through the country scour To cl'itch their Victims—dealing swift the blow, Aridworkiug devastation every hour. Like wolfiih fangs our kinambn bow— Where is the prestige of the liritish pbw’r. And where the troops? One regiment-no more, Scattered in twos and. threes from shore to shore. Tour work, ye saints of Shaftesbury’s famed Hall Ye glorious—though dimly burning lights,. Who on your pious piatiorm rave and bawl About the “ noble savage,” and his.rights— That .we have warp’d their minds and caus’driheir V. fall Who otice were pure-that our relentless mights Would seize progressive from each foot of earth. And drive the natives from their land of birth. -Your missionaries taught (and this the fruit) That colonists would seizeupon the *oii; They.tell ns that for years they’ve sought to root From native minds a lust for blood and spoil. 2%i* then, the acclamation of the brute,— r TAiatbe reward of all their earnest toil— By smug subscribers sent abroad to roam With fiends like these, while thousands starve at home. Our. kinsmen’s blood for vengeance cries aloud, The laud from hellish cannibals to clear; And must that cry to perish be allowed? E’en though too distant for the British ear! Too long ’neath fanatic misrule they’ve bowed, And maudlin errors born of cant and fear. Belay briug death to all 1 these horrors crush— Form, Forest hangers!—once more “clear tho bush i ” If Heaven helps those who help themselves—arise! Protect yourselves, since British aid is slow! Let no more savages your hemes surprise, Causing your wives’ and childrens’ blood to flow. Your hearths and homes the cannibals! war prize; But to a bloody reckoning bring the foe. If Britain leaves you, why uphold her fame? Bhould you shake ofl her trammels who can blame ? —Sydney Punch.