The Chief's Vision.

Horowhenua Chronicle, 25 May 1912, Page 3

The Chief's Vision.

Written for The Chronicle. BY JACK VINCENT. Hie tribe havo perished from the earth, their footprints passed away, The grand old nangitini breathes his latest sigh to-day; The last of all his dusky race, awaiting death's stern call, He turns his proud, but mournful face in silence to the wall. ALONE! What thoughts iare passing through the dying chieftain's brain? Does be recall the murd'rous fight, the crafty raid again? Or does his waning memory trace through intervening years The downfall of his hardy race? Their wrongs? Their sighs? Their tears?

Perhaps he, with his dying breath, the grasping race reviles, Which robbed him of his birthright gift: his lovely native isles: Whoso baneful mess of pottage lured his people from his side, And caused his nearest kith and kin in anger to divide. Ah! no—his thoughts are drifting back to happier themes than these. Far back upon Life's rugged track, his Maori home he sov», Before the stranger's ruthless hand had swept the forests fair And sent its swarthy children forth to seek a home elsewhere. The royal kauris earn* their majestic heads on high, A giant race of forest king whose glories never die: The tall and tapering rimius in stately colouades Support the leafy canopy, beneath whose green arcades, .And draped and festooned avenues. the graceful nikau stands, And there the king fern marshals forth his fcath'ry crested bands. The sil'vry blossomed keroa each hoary trunk ensheaths. And decks their highest pinnacles with quaint fantastic wreaths. The brilliant rata's crimson crown relieves the sober green Of many another forest lord of dark and sombre mien. Whose dreamy shades and softened lights he'd haunt the whole day long. And mark with languid listless ear the tui's rippling song. Jn yonder wild sequestered spot the nestling hapu smiles Upon the creek that dashes forth from out the dark defiles, That rip't the rugged mountain's breast whose hoary sum mitt? reign, In silent grandeur high above the ever verdent plain. The crystal creek meanders on beneath the kowhai's shade, Past many si waste of fern and flax through many a sylvan glade. Till far away, in deep lagoone, its slack'ning waters creep Into that flashing line that marks the bound'ry of the deep. He hears the mellow laughter of the dark-eyed maidens ring, He listens to the haka that his old companions sing, He stands, a gallant chieftain's son, amid the warlike throng, Or joins tic featly war dance with live hundred warriors strong. He :varks his people rally round their chieftain as of yore, And holds the white invader back, by river, lake, and shore. Their thrilling warcry rings again the startled forest through, Or dashes forth, with measured chaunt, the gallant war canoe: His fleeting soul, enraptured, turns upon life's utmost strand, To take one wistful, lingering look at fading Maoriland: And as the hand of Death weighs down his sad mnd weary eyes. The huia's cry i* mingled with the west winds moans and sighs. They say the grand old Maori race is disappearing fast: That i-ooii their name am] language will be merged ink) the past: Howe'er the ruling hand of Fate may trace their chequered lot. The Maori's name, the Maori's fame will never be forgot: 'Tis traced on river, mount and lake. each sunny island through, From Tikitemo's southern heights to Tapuaohereu; The sad Waikato's mournful dirge their story will revive. And NVarualioe's muffled sobs will keep their name alive.