The Voice of the Nation.

Te Aroha News, Volume XVI, Issue 22218, 27 March 1900, Page 2

The Voice of the Nation.

Leave our-furrin frens tu chatter; let ’em flutter roun- an’ f uss, ’Tain’t their cheerin’ or tlieir sneerin’ that can help or hindfei: us; Let ’em hope we’re doomed tu failure, let ’env say we’re crushed an’ cowed ; P’raphs- they think the sun’s extinguished when it’s strugglin’ through a cloud ? • They air hurryiii’ tu. Believe us all their hatred" can desire-, ■ But the blows they fancy fatal only cEnch our oourage higher ;• Talkih’s easier work than doin’, yew may take your oath o’ thefc — Boys ! git on, on' let ’em-chatter - but wo ain’t done yet!‘ Air-their hearts so small an’ craven thet they cannot understan’ How we’re game tu take a lickin’—an’ then lick the other man ? Whut’s their gauge fer measurin’ greatness, how did they achieve renown-, Thet they think whon e ’ er WG stumble we must keep on Ivin’ down ? Dll- they di-eam an- E"mP' re ’ s conjured up by easy charms • an ' sweet ? Ours, at least, was shaped' and builded’ from disaster an’ defeat, An’’we’ve mado it whut if i s > through all the cent'ries thet hev S one > Not without a slip or blunde r —but by still goin’ on ! It is good tu git the fust blow in—hut best t’u hev the last: An’ they’ll see us still go forrard es they’ve seen us in tho past, Fer each loss we hevtu suffer, each defeat thet marks our way Is a clarion call tu victory ; an’ we hear it an' obey In the end we hit the bulFs eye ; though its arter mauy a miss ; Ef a Eckin’ could hev beat us, we’d hev fallen long-ere this ; Some-may find a knock-down blow es bad as pisen in their cup, But" we never stop tu taste it; no, we jest get up ! Ef our Empire is a-shakin- it’s a steadyin’ sort uv shake Thet’ll warm our blood an’ rouse us fill’ our sleepin’ strength’s awake; The-storm-shall break its might on us,. an’ when its hour is o’br. Ye’ll find us standin’, rock-like, ruther firmer than afore An’ our furren frens, I’m thinkih’", may look wiser ef they wait, ’Stead uv castin’ up the total 'fore the sum is on the slate ; They've had cause tu know us better,, an’" it’s "trauge that they forget— Boys !* git on, an’ let ’em chatter —but we ain't done yet !" Hosea, Jun., in the Spectator.