My Picture.

Manawatu Herald, Volume III, 9 May 1890, Page 2

My Picture.

__ — *_ — _ A graceful bepd in the river, Whose Waters are broad and d«ep ; One bank low, with flax and toi, Thft other rugged and steep. An I close by the water's* ripple A long narrevr. atrip of green, Th : ribbon-like leavts of the rtttpo With feathery reeds? between. The roofs of the viilags houses Hid partly by tall, pine trte§, Whose boughs bend low and quiver With. every passing breeze. Lofty mountains— range above lanje — Far oil in the distance rise, ' Upon Whose tops in winter oft A pura snow-cowing lies. This is the picture, I look on At morning, at noon, at eve ; Aid in noting itt varying beauties Muoh tranquil enjoyment receive. For one of Natura'a own pictures — No lifeless copy — is mine ; No artist painted its colours, 'Tie the work of the hand Divine. Endowed with the grace of motion 0 beautiful river art thou, Thy waters are er«r moving In their constant abb and flow. Thine aspect is aver changing, Sometimes when tha storni-wiridß Thy mimic billows are racing '[play ; And chaßing each other all day. s Then a sudden ohango passes o'er thi e, Tranquil and oalin grows thy breast ; For the frolicking now ia over, The winds and wavelets at rest. Grey, and gloomy, and turbid, Sometimes thy waters appear ; Then blue, and bright, and sparkling, Thou art like a mirrow clear. Like tha ups and downs of our lifa, Our days of sunshine and shade ; Of gloom, or of glee, as are darkened Or brightened, our skies orcrhead. Not beanty of form, and motion, And colour, alone are found ; No lonely and silent river Thou lackest not life an<i sound. Tha snow-breasted bird of the ocean, Comes from its home by the sea, Over thee circling and sorearatng, Graceful, and joyous, and free. And oft times upon thy waters Appears the light, frail canoe, Swiftly propelled by the paddles Of its dark-Bkinned Maori crew. Oft, too, in the smmmer even : ngs, When they are pleasant and long, Fro-n " pakeha " boats there is heard The voice of mirth and of song. Lovely art thou in the evening 1 When the glowing skies of the West, 1 The crimson hues of the sunset Are reflected upon thy breast. Beautiful, too, is the mountain-chain At the dying hour of. day, — When the purple flush creeps o'er it Then gradually fades away. 0 mountains, and river, I love ye, Ye are of my life a part I And ever while memory 'iugets" Dear shall ye be to my heart. — R.D. Fcxton, Manawato.