With haughty pride--nor priest nor guide-- He ruled the land, as warrior tried. Here chieftain brave, here King and slave, Their lives to war and foray gave. Here, dusky maid was ne'er afraid To join the fray, in copse or glade. With waving hair, and beauty rare, Brave hearts these maidens did ensnare. When beauty wild a chief beguiled, He gazed in liquid eyes, and smiled. Love makes amends, and often blends, Wild warring factions into friends. But strong the will, with tribesmen's skill, The Maori was unconquered still. * * * * * Where Nature, kind, unfolds the mind, Man is to nobler thoughts inclined. Though brave, he's meek; he aids the weak, And high companionship doth seek. In social train, by hand and brain, He wins and holds a vast domain. He builds a State; 'tis weak or great, As based on love, or fosters hate. If Wisdom's eyes survey the skies, Before their magic touch arise Industrial arts, where loyal hearts May rear and fill commercial marts. If strong and just, and true to trust, The coin of Truth can never rust; And wise men see that none are free, Save where there's large equality-- Where Law commands, that sturdy hands, Shall freely cultivate the lands; No coward slave, but free and brave, Shall ever ready be to save. Thus honest worth, o'er all the earth, Conditions make, e'en more than birth. * * * * * 'Twas said by Fate, these Isles must wait, The builders of an ideal State. Then with the breeze, 'cross Southern seas, The Briton came, with high decrees. New scenes arose, old wounds they close, And friendship reigns 'mong ancient foes. For Maori hate, by skill and--"fate"-- Was merged into the British "State." United, free, they now agree To dwell in peace,--"So mote it be." * * * * * Then of this man, and if we can, We'll follow out his mystic plan. For wise it seems, e'en in our dreams, To build, with care, prophetic themes. Then let us gauge the Seer and Sage, As pass they o'er Life's mystic stage. First, of the dead, it may be said, While warm of heart and cool of head, They saw the new, and though but few, They laid foundations, strong and true, On which to rear, without a fear, This temple,--so imposing here. By words sublime, in prose and rhyme, They taught, for all-enduring time. * * * * * Then Seddon came, without whose name This temple were unfinished frame. But in his care, with graceful air, The structure rose, with finish fair. His sturdy stroke the times awoke, As from Tradition's rules he broke.