POETRY.

Te Aroha News, Volume VII, Issue 472, 17 May 1890, Page 3

POETRY.

“AS YE DID IT UNTO ME.” A Satire. How shall I sing thy praises, O, fair Auckland, by the sea. Where the sad and weary pilgrims find rest and love with thee ? How shall I tell thy glories—the victories thou hast won In caring for the helpless, "the poor, neglected one? There were poor waifs, aweary—ah! so pitiful were they; , , , Our hearts went, out to meet them and cheer them on their way, Each church-bell rang a welcome, and each pastor offer’d prayer. Ah! how God’s shepherds succour those in sorrow and despair! The great and wealthy gather’d near, with garments fine and warm; So these poor human waifs should be secure from winter’s storm, Whilst every door was open and every heart was wide To comfort and to succour these strangers by our side. Alas I have been dreaming, for outside tho workhouse gate, _ . I saw these wretched waifs of ours—like Cain — half desolute ! And every door was barr’d to them—e en Mercy turned aside. And He who suffer’d on the cross, again was crucified! And then—seme rowdies we deride, and laugh at and despise— . Came like the old Samaritan, in answer to their sighs 1 Their hearts were big if ours were small, and in the Master’s name They carried these poor human waifs, and left us to our shame ! Bing out, ye bells, a solemn dirge, the Church is dead, to-day! For want and hunger stalk d the streets, and it had nought to say ; But these Salvation rowdies, that we scourge with Censure’s rod, Are gathering up the poor lost sheep—true shepherds of their God. W. R. Wills.