Poetry.

Lyttelton Times, Volume IX, Issue 578, 19 May 1858, Page 3

Poetry.

WHERE'S THE ENGINEER? The autumn time is past its prime; The winter draweth nigh; The southern- rain pours on the plain; The swamps are rising high; The drains begin to tumble in;. The bridges want repair; The roadway; cuts in holes < and'ruts, And holloas out for care. With cash opprest the public chest Is almost overflowed; In copper coined, 't would metal find Eor fifty miles of road. The country through there's work to do, And most this time of year; But still we stand on every hand, )? or —Where's the Engineer? The cuckoo green, in summer seen, With shining plumage drest, In autumn flies to other skies Towards the warmer west; But back he'll wing his way in spring And stay for haif-a-year; Six monthsat least he loves the East, • So may the Engineer! The constant breeze from eastern seas Across the ; plain may blow; Where forests drear and granite bare Are clad in western snow; • But, fast and warm, the nor-west storm ■ Will quit those deserts drear; Andsighand burn in glad return: So may the Engineer 1 The glorious sun, when day is done, Drops on the mountain's crest, And lends the ray we felt to-day To warm and light the West; But, though he sink o'er Ocean's brink, To-morrow he'll appear Erom out the tide "the other side, So may the Engineer! But though the bird the West preferred, Nor mountain breezes blew; And though the sun when day is done Bade us a last adieu; Still, D ——_, thee we'd hope to see, Our longingJiearts to cheer; . Still we cry out; with piteous shout, Return, Oh Engineer! For thou ; roust know—what figures- show—■ We hold thee very dear; It racks our heart from one to part Who's worth so much—a, year. But if .the west thou lovest best, . Nor dost thy duties here— Then rest thee—-stay for aye away— We only say t'were. cheap to pay Another Engineer.