THE NORTH ISLAND POET.

Temuka Leader, Issue 2546, 24 August 1893, Page 3

THE NORTH ISLAND POET.

W e have received the following from “the poet of the North Island,” as he calls himself. He lives in the Wanganui. We have had to pay 2d postage on it, and we give it as so much for our money. He says:— “ I am the North Island poet, and a Belfast Protestant. I give you something to stir them up about Temuka. 1 noticed a letter in your paper from one of the glorious and immortal memory of William the Conqueror, I have just completed a parody on the Boyne Water. You shall have a copy of it to show my countrymen where they make the mistake. I also let you have “ The Coat the late and beloved Premier wore.” “ Dear sir, you have my permission to publish those two songs, as there are many who know me about Temuka( —I am, etc., “Peter Grey.”

JULY THE 12th, OR A PARODY ON THE BOYNE WATER. By Peter Grey. July the twelfth, one morning bright, Met Patrick’s Day out walking ; They nodded coldly at the first, And then dropped into talking, “ I don’t see why,” replied July, “ So cold should be our greeting ; This nod and glower and look so sour. Is not like a neighbors’ meeting 1 “Your friend and mine, when at the Boyne. Stood up for James or Willy ; For us to scowl, and look so cold, I think is mighty silly. If they were right, they had their fight, And so it should be ended ; If they were wrong, ’tis far too long . Ago for us to mend it. “Our fathers fought, and both sides thought ’Twas Ireland’s rights they stood for ; So you and I just now might try What unity is good for.” Said Patrick’s Day: “ that’s just the way That neighbors should be talking 1 So there’s my hand for you as a bond Of friendship while we’re walking.

“ Now, if for you the sky looks blue, For me the earth looks green, friend; Let Green and Blue in union true

For ever more be seen, friend,

The lily seen, upon the green By God’s own hand united— Until you join your hand in mine Our country shall be blighted.” “ I don’t see why,” replied July, “ We should not help each other,

The wrongs that make your bosom ache Are the same that hurt your brother.” July and Pat thus had their chat While walking on like neighbors.

And as for those who’d make them foes Bad luck attend their labors 1 Home Rule for Ireland 1

There were some rough corners on these verses, but the sentiment in them is excellent and the ideas so good that we found them well worth polishing up, We could not manage <( The Coat John Ballauce wore,” This was a frieze coat the late Premier brought out from Ireland, and he left it as a legacy to the poet, who, however, has not risen to the occasion. If we were to publish his poem on the coat we should only <l '*"’ , cr0 y the effect of the aboye exc^’ i6nt ver “g S> *