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Te Aroha News, Volume XVI, Issue 222033, 6 January 1900, Page 2

TnE following, taken from a Manchester paper, is such a fine spirited poem that we print it with our congratulations to the author: — With quivering engine and furnace gleam

At last they are drawing near, Spare not your giants of coat and steam — Hasten, O engim-er! Ivruger exultantly smik-s ami skips, And White is shut :u a pen, And out on t be sea Vv are fifty ships And fifty thousand men. The boilers brut-.'hio.-isiy pant and throb,

And it’s boll in the stokers’ hole, As over the churning waves they throb, And press to the nearing goal. Britannia watches with quivering lips, And the Liori paces his den, While out on the sea there are fifty ships And fifty thousand men. Pile up the fuel! Strain nerve and tliew, On—on through the sleepless night, For liullcr is watching, O ships ! for you, And Btiller is thinking of White. And Symons’ bright star, lost in death’s eclipse, For ever has gone from our ken, While out on the sea there are fifty ships And fifty thousand men. The smoke is thick and the fight is hot, And the earth of the veldt is red; And the air is darkened with pelting shot, ■And we mourn for our noble dead. And Kruger exullantiy smiles and skips, For V/hite is shut in a pen ; So hasten—oh hasten ! yc fifty ships With your fifty thousand men ! Democritus.