University of Virginia Library

Pshaw! he broke in; of course, a blessed pair
Of doves; the usual fashion; haunted they
By no regrets for broken lives, the while
They twain sat cooing. Pass to something else;
It does not interest me—'tis all so common.
Tell me about yourself, for you alone
Have made a name that even our wild lads
Have kindly in their mouths.

But I: Nay, you
Must hear me out, seeing I have begun—
There came a day when he must go again
Back to his flocks: there had been summer droughts
That parched the grass, and heavy winter snows,
When many weaklings perished in the drift;
And over all the Colony a cloud
Hung lowering, for the Maori threatened war,
Fenced his strong Pah, and sent his fighting men
To waste and burn and stealthily to kill
So they went off together: at first he urged
That she should stay behind, for war was ill
To face, with wife and children in the rear
Plucking your heart, and savages in front
Who had no law or pity: she would find
It hard to be alone i' the bush, and quake
For her dear babes at every whispering wind,
Or rustling leaf, dreading the cunning foe.
A year or two, and all would right itself,
And he would sell his run, and live at home
With nought to do but love her. Thus he spake
In reason and right feeling, though his heart
Was sore at parting. But she answered him,
With the great heart which used to fire our youth:
If war were coming, he would better fight
That his wife bound his sword on, and was near
To bind his wounds, and to call pitying thoughts
Up in his mind, amid the storm of wrath,
For savage women wailing in their kraals;
Exile would be to part her now from him,
And home was just where he was; for herself,
She would not lose a year of happiness,
Nor give a year of loneliness to him,
For worlds; and life was there where duty was,
Not elsewhere; and their God was also there,
I' the bush as in the city. So they sailed
In a great ship crowded with emigrants,
That down the Mersey dropt with favouring breeze,
And ringing cheers upon the crowded wharf,
And blinding tears upon the crowded deck,
And many hopes, and many a sad regret.