SON ACKNOWLEDGES TRIBUTES.

Manawatu Herald, Volume LI, Issue 4499, 2 September 1930, Page 2

SON ACKNOWLEDGES TRIBUTES.

Rich with the imaginative originality and (beautiful imagery that falls with such facility from Maori lips, an eloquent address was given at Waitara. on Sunday by Mr. Te Rakaherea Pomare, the young son of the late Sir Maui Pomare, iu acknowledgment of the wealth of glowing tributes to the memory of his father. It was from the bottom of a. sorrowing heart that he rose t« express thanks for the love and sympathy extended to his family in their time of trouble, said .Mr. Pomare. He regretted his inability to speak fluently in his native tongue, but he felt that it was not in either the Maori or the pakeha tongue but in the language of the sorrowing hearts of the people that he found the real testimony to his father's work. Before his father left Aotearoa he gave his family the following message, which he felt was meant as much for the people as it was for his family:—

“I have rubbed noses with the lips and chins of the tattooed women of my rahe. I have kissed the painted face of the modern flapper. 1 have seen the flickering stone oil lamp of the Maori superseded by the tallow candle of the pakeha, and the candle iu its turn give way to the flash of (he harnessed river. ] have heard the rhythmic paddling of the Maori war canoe drowned by the spluttering and the flitting of the modern speed boat. 1 have seen the wings of old trooped to the bird men of the twentieth century, and I have spoken and listened to voices in the air. So when I wend my way to that mythical realm of lrihia I < an say that I have seeu and heard wondrous things. And I will close my eyes in deep content." “Yes,” said Mr. Pomare. “The canoe which bore our Maori troubles and guided the destiny of our race has been taken to Hawaild, that mythical land from which man came and to which he must inevitably return. My father lies yonder enwrapped in the tributes of the people he loved so much, the Maoris, the Pafke'bas, the Cook Islanders and the Samoans— -a great emblem of the affection that existed on every shore at which his prow touched and a wonderful solace and inspiration to those of us who remain.

“Yes,” he •continued, “the canoe of fate has visited our home as it has visited the home of every man, and has borne our father away into the realms of night—a night where his soul is now at rest, and from which the canoe ever returns empty. His work is his monument. His life may be emulated, but not excelled. It is true our sweetest singing 'bird has vanished, and the plumes alone remain. The people of Taranaki have kindly intimated to my brother that my mother may have the privilege of removing those plumes at any time she may wish to do so.”