A SONG FOR THE TIMES.

Temuka Leader, Issue 941, 22 April 1882, Page 3

A SONG FOR THE TIMES.

[The following spirited verses were struck off at a wl ite heat by a gentleman temporarily residing in Wanganui just previously to the announcement of the Minister’ ll fiasco. It will be observed that the actual and prophetic have hit the mark.] WHAT SHALL WE DO TO BE SAVED X (At:— 1 The rfight before Lury was stretched, ’’] Oh, what shall we do to be saved ? Said Johnny to red-bearded Harry ; For I fear by the signs of the times, That our snug schemes are bound to miscarry. It’s right that weshouldhold up our heads, And boast that we have a majority ; You haA'e yours for your bloodthirsty deeds, But your Governmer t’s got a minority. 01., what shall we do tq be saved ? Our Bismarck is cutting up rough, Tho’ he’s Avrong, he is now past all righting ;] Since he led up his heroes to fight A foe Avhom he kneAV ne’er meant fighting. He is playing his own little game,

With us ho has ne’er worked together J His while horse has led him to fame, But toe muse soon show the white feather. Oh, what must we dp to be saved 1

Emerged from that fight fresh and gory, To Auckland he now has set sail ; To seek further deeds full of glory, At which Parihaka will pale. He has found something there to bis mind, To think of it makes my heart sick ; For he’s ordered the Native Lands Court To shift camp right away to Port Nick. Oh, what must we do to be saved ?

The gunpowder treason and plot, Was nothing to this foolish action ; I think I can see the broad grin s On the face of the vagrant Grey faction. Old Guy meant to blow up the House, Though he proved not to be quite a dab in it; Our Guy will have partial success, For he’ll manage to blow up the Cabinet, Oh, what shall we do to be saved ?

All Auckland is now up in arms, To resist this darned order from Bryce ; And they say that they’ll bundle us out, And restore old Sir George in a trice. Should Grey win you’ll surely look blue, I know they will reckon me green ; Old Fred’s face will turn whitey-brown, And our chums look, as usual, quite

mean. Oh, ivhat shall we do to be saved X

There’s Peacock, Mitcbelson, Morris, And Whitaker (whispering) ; though I would rather Not jump at a conclusion at once, But I’ve very strong doubt of his father, And Hobbs, too, that pious young saint, ( Who is a rat requires small provocation ); All these must oppose our Sir John, Or prepare to give up their vocation. Oh, what shall we do to be saved 1

Willie Swanson we cannot control, He’s a man that will lend but not borrow, He left his own friends in a fix, And he’ll do the same by us to-morrow. Whatever old Willie has done, His worst friends in Auckland will own, That in spite of his faults of the past, He’s an Aucklander to the backbone. Oh, what shall we do to be saved X

It will spill the last drop in our cup. It Avill spend the last shot in our locker, Our enemies then will combine, And for us go a regular docker. Our reforms and our wond’rous reductions, Will fail to save us from our fall ; We may look out for terrible ructions, And an end of the reign of John Hall. Oh, what shall we do to be saved !

Rolleston’s work is fast lagging behind, Yet he loafs about Rotomahana, Peering down into sulphurous springs, Perhaps to find out the devil’s Arcana ; What use now the devil’s protection, To spend money and time to implore ? I am sure now the devil won’t help us, For he has helped us so often before. Oh, what shall we do to be saved X

Where was Dick, that he never protested When he heard, of tois fearful design 1 To commit both himself and his colleagues, To start in the public house line. He’s appointed a doctor there too, ’Cos he married the Chief Judge’s daughter. Ah, we’ll find when the eighteenth comes round, That he’s landed us all in hot water.

Then Eolleston is making up fads, His policy’s al ways diurnal ; It changes with every wind, But now it is dreadfully Thermal. He’s building an elegant pub, And spending our coin without mea-

sure ; Though Rome burns, so he fiddles the

while, Francis Dart will feel infinite pleasure. Oh, what shall wo do to be saved X —-Wanganui Herald.