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Appendix II.

Waikare-Moana.

By T. J. Tunks, Te Wairoa.

Was thy basin formed by throes volcanic
Or fashioned out by imps satanic?
Ne'er could the ambitious mind of man
Conceive, design, or frame thy glorious plan—

Waikare-moana.

Beauteous gem in Nature's massive setting
Of wooded hill and rugged peak that, fretting
The azure, tower in solemn grandeur where
The winds shriek forth like spirits in despair—

Waikare-moana.

Hath lover ever o'er thy limpid tide
Sped forth in light canoe to woo his bride,
And, as the stars revealed their lights above,
Poured out his oft-told gentle tale of love—

Waikare-moana?

Or doth some legend dark brood o'er thy waters,
And tell how one of a chieftain's daughters
Sprang in the night from out her lover's arms
And in thy darkling depths flung all her charms—

Waikare-moana?

At early morning in the ruddy beams
Of the sun new risen all golden seems
Thy calm surface, while with each bright'ning ray
Fresh beauties ripen and break into play—

Waikare-moana.

At even, in the light of dying day
Thy purple-tinted hills, by golden ray
Of setting sun outlined in beauty bright,
Break like a fairy vision on the sight—

Waikare-moana.

The lady moon, gazing from out a veil
Of fleecy clouds upon her image pale
In thee reflected, smiles sweetly from afar,
Coquetting with full many a lusty star—

Waikare-moana.

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