(TO THE EDITOR OF THE TEMUKA LEADER.)

Temuka Leader, Volume 2, Issue 158, 28 June 1879, Page 2

(TO THE EDITOR OF THE TEMUKA LEADER.)

Sir, —I fear that poetic talent must be at a very low ebb at Tcmuka if the effusion of “ Bangles’,’’ whicli you published on Saturday, is the beat that is to be got there. “ l)e voted !” .It is to be hoped, for the sike of the reading public, that he lias not entirely “devoted 1 ’ himself to poetry, or that,' if he has, he will “devote” a little time to the study of his native (1) language. Not that “Bangles” strikes on the ear with an Irish sound. It is a curious coincidence that during the past week it came within the sphere of my duties to examine several bundles of dusty, crumpled papers, with a view to the destroying of such as were not considered of importance, and among them 1 found one containing what appears to be the opening lines of (if the author’s idea had been carried out) ao ambitious flight of fancy on the same subject as that to which the “ devoted” one alludes in his last stanza —with this difference, that, while “Bangles” only looks forward to the glorious future iu store for Temuka, when Milford harbour shall have become an accomplished fact, the author of the fragment I send yon seems, by a spirit of prophecy, actually to have leaped over a number of years—who shall say how many ?—and to see existing a state of tilings very comfortable for Milford and Temuka, but not so pleasing, perhaps, to “ sweat Timaru.” However, here is the poem, as far as it goes ;

Tempus— lß9o, 1900, or any date the reader likes to fix.

Wandering of late, on South Pacific’s shores, Through ranges of deserted banks and stores, Of splendid mansions, and of humble cots, Neglected gardens, vacant building lots, All “ eligible business sites,” and yet All, all uutenanfccd, and “to let;” The sad remains of what was once, I knew, The busy, populous town of Timaru. I met a hoary sage of reverend mien,

Who, like the city, better days had seen, And him I straight accosted, “Tell me, pray, The cause of all this ruin and decay.” “ Tho cause,” he answered, “ is not far to seek, ’Tis Milford Haven. Nay, ’tis truth I speak ; Believe or disbelieve, just as you will, But come—a little further up the hill

My humble dwelling stands, and when we’re

there * I’ll prove the truth of what I now declare, And show how Milford Haven came to be The cause of all the ruin that you see.”

“ Agreed,” I cried, and pacing up the street, We gained anon the stranger’s lone retreat, And entered in. Obedient to his word,

The attendant, Hebe, placed upon the board Two foaming goblets. “ Now,” the old man

cried, “ Approach, and take the good tho gods pro-

Tide, For we will drink, ere you my story hoar, These ‘ modest quenchers’ of Temuka beer.” “ Temuka beer !” “ Yes, traveller ; Timaru Is now so lost and sunk that none can brew Such beer as was produced of old, when Moore, Field, Brown, and all that lot,'were to the fore. Nor in the article of beer alone Is Timaru’s state of decadence shown ; There’s not a thing that she could once produce, For luxury or comfort, show or use, But Milford or Temuka now can do The very same, as well, and better, too.” [Here occurs a hiatus.] “You see yon building just across the street, ’Twas there the Board of Works once used to meet —• To meet at stated times and hold debate On various measures suited to the state Of town and country. Ancient records tell That in those balls a con diet once befell, The “ Battle of the Bridge” yclept ; and I, If you will kindly list a while, shall try To’tell the tale, as nearly as may be In the same words as it ’twas told to me ; “ Ere the first sod of yonder “ line” was turned, While yet our souls with fond impatience burned To mount the “ iron horse,” and gaily scour Across the plains at fifteen miles an hour ; Long, long ago ! Ere yet, with listening nose* And answ’ring cars, the mighty H y rose To “ pride of place and power.” Ere Geraldine John M—e’s coach three times a week had seen; Ere ■ Waihi Bush had heard the twanging horn, That heralds M—ll’s setting forth each morn (Or would do, if he had one), but ‘ n’importe,’ I see you wish I’d cut the story short. But patience, friend ; let’s try another drain Of Franks’ best, and then begin again : ’Twas while the genial G-——n, day by day, Yet drove bis coach along the toilsome way That hitherward from fair Temuka leads ; That city in her varied list of needs, Numbered a bridge, to cross the Opihi, And how she got it you shall shortly, see. East by the place where, in their latest bed, Temuka lays her sons and daughters, dead, There dwelt a citizen of sober fame. A plain, good man, and H was his name ; He owned much land at Milford, near the sea, . And there, he thought, the bridge must surely be —” At this point, unfortunately, the manuscript came to an end. If you think it worthy of publication in its present incomplete form, it is very much at your service ; and if at any future time I should happen to come upon any continuation of the subject, I shall he happy to shad it to you. By-the-bye, what is the Milford Harbor Board abqut ? Is anything in progress towards carrying out the scheme ? 1 am, &c., EusTicus. Geraldine, 24th June, 1879. obscure, but supposed to have reference to an expression made use of in a description', published in a Ballarat paper some four .or five years ago, of a coach journey front Dunedin to Christchurch. Several \tcll-kuovvn local characters were jocosely mentioned, and the traveller stated, among other things, that the driver who took charge of him from Timaru to Geraldine had a way of listening with his nose and answering with Ins ears to the remarks of his passengers.