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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 9, Issue 7 (October 1, 1934)



They taught us to love old England,
The mothers with silver hair,
And they longed for the lanes and hedgerows
With an ache which was half a prayer.
But we of a younger story,
Who grew by New Zealand seas,
And gathered her flowers in our childish hours
What more do we want than these?
We list to the bellbird's music,
We gloat on the rata's fire,
We can rest on the park's wild grasses,
And gaze to our heart's desire;
We can drink in like waves of gladness
The breath of the nor'-west wind,
As it rushes along with a joyous song,
Tender and great and kind.
Up there, where the skies seem riven
And lie like a lake of blue,
Where the snow-peaks gleam like silver
Beneath the cloud's dun hue,
Where the sunset banners shimmer
With radiancy all too bright,
Where the arch swings high as the gale draws nigh,
'This rapture to watch to-night.
They tell us, the dear tired mothers,
Of homesteads with ivy grown,
Of mosses which clung for ages
Round buildings of ancient stone;
But we in our young New Zealand,
Its youth like its breezes, dear,
For our proud hearts know with a tender glow
That our love and our home are here!