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The Ancient History of the Maori, His Mythology and Traditions. Nga-Puhi [Vol. X, English]

Chapter XII

page (5)

Chapter XII

Oh cloudy and dim day of mildew,
How lifts the gloom, and sun shine comes,
Yet vainly doeth the longings of thee
Loving one, with arms extended to the sky
Implore the lost in death to come,
To venture back, but no, they now
Are laid within the sacred Tuahu (raised coffin)
And never will come back,
But while the storm then raged
We brought thee back, then chill
Thou went, and cold in death,
Yet thou wast guarded by the crowd
And all accompanied thee, and laid thee
Lifted high up on Huka-nui
And all the tribes with one acclaim
Bemoaned thee at the head land, at Tiki.
But why thy peoples sorrowing wail?
But that they may bemoan
The noble tattooed son of loved Horo
And use again on thee, the
Scented oil, that all its fragrance might
Be felt on mountain Maukoro.
Oh my own beloved, an offering make
To all the gods, upon Puke-kai-hau
At peak of hill at Tua-wera,
And stand thou at the clump of tree
That grow high up on Torea
And then rejoice, and hold as gift to gods
The Tui birds that flutter on
The hill at Hou-hora,
As though thy were the sons of Tu (god of war)
Oh bird of mine, who in the
Daring flock, doest stand now in the west (death).
Speak as do the babbling creek at Wai-mamaku
Oh thou, o son of Tau give joy
To these my left and lonely ones.