THE POET'S SONG.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 398, 31 August 1889, Page 3

THE POET'S SONG.

E. S. Husband.

The poot stood on the frowning steep, And a world of beauty boneath him lay As the sunshine silvered the restless deep, And tho white sails gleamed in the sheltered bay. And above the forests upon the hills, > And' the glistening spiros in the vales holovv, And tho peat otul homes by the sparkling nils, Was a cloudless sky, with its noontide glow. "These all are Thine," said tho child of song, As the noble landscape he proudly scanned; "*• rom i ho deep, broad river that glides along, To tho lofty hnls and the sunny strand. When tho sun goes down in the crimsoned west, When the glow ot morn is upon tho sea. Then 1 prize tho Edens which Thou hast blest, And my love and homage I render Thee. \'J. lack/the wealth and the easo of those V£.ho have never battled with want or care, fVVho Bit a own y cguches at niglit repose, L In their stately enstfes or mansions fair. Though, as yet, I "boast- noither < .wealth nor fame. And no fawning mentals upon me wait, I have never troddun iho path of shame Often sought by those whom the world deems great. •' In classic regions tho poot strays, And tho world is charmed with his bursts of song.; I would rather warble my simple lays On tin* tree-clad hills, or the vriles among. Though tho pomp and grandeur of courts delight ■ - All the servile courtieis who bend the knee, I would rather roam o'er the towering height, Or beside the clifl's or our own loved sea. I shall never covert the victor's wreath Or the stately grandeur and pomp of kings, While these hills of ouvs and the vales beneath Boast tho wondrous charms which the poet sings. I shall never sigh at my humble fate, Never crave the honours to me denied, While my Bessie stands at the garden gate AVith a loving welcome at eventide. • " Though far from cities I fain would stray. And alone with nature would Woo the Muse, Yet I would not b^msh myselt away Just to live the life of a stern recluse : I would rather rescue a soul lrom s*in, And with clieeriug words bid the mourners live" In the glorious sunshine of hope, than win All the fame and honour that men can give. " When haughty monarchs, with threatening words Would def y the nations who long for peace, And would bid their' legions unsheath their s words, I would pray that war and its woes shoxild cease ; I would v» in the loveof each noble mind, And our cherished homes from the foe'defend. And the sons of labour should always find In the lowly minstrel a faithful friend." Thus the poet sang on the frowning steep, • ' With his blue eyes Hashing, his cheeks aglow Till the lengthening shadows began to creep, And the torn-trees waved in the rifts below. And in strains far sweotcr he yet will sing Of the Father's 1oa t6t 6 to each race and olan ; Of the heavdn ottered to bard and kingThough the poet oft is the nobler man. Auckland.