BY THE OLD SLIP RAILS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 435, 31 January 1912, Page 3

BY THE OLD SLIP RAILS.

Written for the K.C.C. by Jack Vincent. When the evening milking's over And 1 drive the cows afield, Where the rye grass and the clover All their dewy fragrance yield. At the sliprails oft I linger, Giving girlish fancy rein, While the love god's chubby finger Points acruss the meadowed plain. Po : nts to where the landscape changes, And the terraced foothills push Forward from the broken ranges, Mantled with the sombre bush. Over all, his grandeur piling, In the sun's declining rays, Lofty Ruapehu's smiling Through a veil of golden haze. But my musing glancss wander Backward from the distant peaks To the peaceful foothills yonder, With their fern embowered creeks. Where the humble uilly's boiling, For the weary bushman's tea, Where my own true knight is toiling, Carving out a home for me. With my brothers, bravely fighting, Facing overwhelming odds, Danger, toil and hardship slightingBattle worthy of the gods. Charging on the stubborn rata, Tilting at the lordly pine, Knights that flaunt no Star or Garter, Wheeling nature into line. Knights of Progress, Knights of Labour, Knights who guide the world's increase, » Spade and axe, for lance and sabre, Building homes and guarding peace. Soon yon charred and blackened clearing, Kindly grass its scars will hide, Willing hands the homestead rearing, Where my future hopes reside. Years of struggle lie before us, Seasons of unflinching toil, Ere the future will restore us Tardy bounty of the soil. Love will soften every sorrow, Hope will lighten labour's chain, Cheerfully we wait the morrow, Sunny days will come again. In the mother nest I'm leaving, Arboured in the scented pine. Loving hearts for me are grieving, Wistful glances meeting mine. I, the first to try their pinions On the wayward winds of life, Soaring into Love's dominions, Faithful mate and loving wife. Tender memories crowding o'er me, While the summer twilight fails, Thinking of what lies before me— Dreaming by the old sliprails. Leaving those I love behind me, Feeling all my vow entails, Driving back the tears that blind me, Sobbing by the old sliprails.