Our River.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1794, 5 January 1884, Page 6

Our River.

BJT H. H. Bxiight blue at noon, our ohildhood's river, At eve all soft and silver white, In June its rims with blossoms bright — Our childish prizes and delight ; Our home, in shade of sycamores, Looked np and down the emerald shores : Onr harvest meadows, broad and fair, In antamn perfumed all the air ; The stream with endless joys seemed rife : 'Twas placid where all else was strife ; Our hopes, our wealth, lay .in its life : From man to boy we loved our river. ' Sudden, a livid sea, our river Came roaring past the sycamore wood : Crushed like an egg-shell where it stood, Our house swirled down the seething flood, Its rafters spinning off like chips, Its windows wide like parted lips ; Our harvest meadows torn and slang Like sands in maelstrom eddies flung ; My brother's hands in terror tossed, In the same second swallowed, lost, Where boiling torrents swept and crossed — Good God I And we had loved that river I*.