WELLINGTON.

New Zealander, Volume 9, Issue 707, 22 January 1853, Page 4

WELLINGTON.

| [From " Punch," All bring their tribute to bis name—from her Who wears the crown to him who plies the spade— Under those windows where his corpse is laid. Taking its rest at last those years of stir. Years that re-moulded an old world in roar And furnnce-fires of strife—with hideous clang Of battle-hammers; where thev loudest rnnir, His clear sharp voice was heard that ne'er will be heard more. Courts have a seemly sorrow for such loss; Cabinets politic regret; the great Will miss his punctual presence at their state — The shade of such eclipse even lowly hearths will cross. But T, a jester, what have I to do With greatness or the grave? The man and theme The comment of my page may ill beseem; So be it—yet not less do I pay tribute true. For that in him to which 1 would how down Cornea not of honours heaped upon his bead, Comes not of orders on his breast outspread— Nor yet of captain's nor of councillor's renown. It is that nil his life example shows Of reverence for duty ; wh- re he saw Duty commanding word or net, her law With him was absolute, and brooked no quibbling glose. He followed where she pointed ; right a-liead Unheeding what might sweep across his path, The cannon's volley, or the people's wrath ; No hope, howe'er forlorn, but at her call be led. Hard as a blade so tempered needs must be, And, sometimes, scant of courtesy, as one Whose life has dealt with sem things to be done, j Not wide in range of thought, nor deep of subtlety: Of most distrustful, sparing in discourse ; Himself untiring, and from all around Claiming that force which in himself he found— He lived, and asked no love, but won respect per force. And of respect, at last, came love unsought, But not repelled when offered ; and we knew That this rare sternness had its softness too, That woman's charm and grace upon his being wrought. Tbat underneath the armour of his breast Were springs of tendetnpss—.ill quick to flow In sympathy with childhood's joy or woe : That children climbed his knees, and made his arijf their nest. For fifty of its eighty years and four His life has been before ns; who but knew The short, spare frame, the eye of piercing blue, The eagle-beak, the finger reared before In greeting?-Well he bore his load of years, As in his daily walk he paced along To early prayer, or, 'mid the admiring throng, Pass'd through Whitehall to counsel with his peers. He was true English—down to the heart's core ; His sternness and his softness English both ; Our reverence and love grew with his growth, Till we are slow to think tbat he can be no more. Peace to him ! Let him sleep near him who fell Victor of Trafalgar; by Nelson's side Wellington's ashes.fitly may abide Great captain—noble heart 1 Hail to thee, and >fare. well!