Original Poetry.

Southland Times, Issue 1178, 18 June 1869, Page 3

Original Poetry.

♦ THE IMMIGRANT'S TRIBUTE TO SOUTHLAND.

Afar from Scotland's hills and doles, Grim fortune bids us roam. Then spread the white sail to the gale, We'll plough the deep-sea foam. Wo'll sweep'the changing climes and skiei Of Neptune's lonely reign, To where New Zealand's mountains rise F»"om out the Southern main. Though matchless is yon sunny clime, And fair the fertile scene, Wnere Egmont's snowy peak sublime, Shines in the high serene. Her fields re-echo to the screams Of many a savage band, And many a dusky weapon gleams, In many a dusky hand. Then bid the Teasel southward bound, ! Towards a Southland strand, I Where peace and plenty reign around, And pay the working hand. Though squally winds oft roam her hills, And fan her flaxen plains, Though oft to torrents rise her rillt, Swell'd by the falling rains. Yet all the winds that oe'r her blow, Bear health upon their wings, And bright her ardent sun doth glow, And ridi he* verdiire sprJrtgs. But corn shall wave, where swamps now lave, The fern and cabbage tree ; Where forests to the wild winds rave, There happy homes shall be. Her hills, where echo slept supine, Or bore the savage yell, Shall teem with flocks and lowin' kine ; Skatl vocal Make the dale 1. Ye pilgrim rovers of the main, Then hither wend your way ; Your children here shall learn and raign, Beneath the British sway. With science, art, and Poets song, They'll swell Brittannia's name, And far through time and dpace prolong The glories of her name.