Not Understood and Other Poems/Hurrah for New Zealand
HURRAH FOR NEW ZEALAND.
SAID Freedom to Britain, that bold little nation,
“I’ve lately discovered a fine piece of land,
And as I intend there to ’stablish a station,
I want your best children to give me a hand.
Like thee, on the water,
Thy beautiful daughter,
A nymph of the ocean sits proud and elate;
Then give me a few men,
Thy brave and thy true men,
To live and to work on my Southern estate,
My Southern estate,
My Southern estate.
In majesty rises a bold and a free land,
The starry cross glows
O’er the unsullied snows
That crown her grand mountains—“Hurrah for New Zealand!”
“I’ve lately discovered a fine piece of land,
And as I intend there to ’stablish a station,
I want your best children to give me a hand.
Like thee, on the water,
Thy beautiful daughter,
A nymph of the ocean sits proud and elate;
Then give me a few men,
Thy brave and thy true men,
To live and to work on my Southern estate,
My Southern estate,
My Southern estate.
In majesty rises a bold and a free land,
The starry cross glows
O’er the unsullied snows
That crown her grand mountains—“Hurrah for New Zealand!”
Then Britain to Freedom said, “Loving defender,
Thy wish is my law, I’m a debtor to thee;
Pick out loyal hearts who will honour and tend her,
And make my fair daughter a Queen of the Sea.
My Celt and my Saxon
Shall ne’er turn their backs on
The minions of tyranny, envy, or hate,
Should they dare assail her,
My sons shall not fail her,
Their strong arms shall fence in thy Southern estate,
Thy Southern estate,
Thy Southern estate.
In majesty rises a bold and a free land,
The starry cross glows
O’er the unsullied snows
That crown her grand mountains—Hurrah for New Zealand!”
Thy wish is my law, I’m a debtor to thee;
Pick out loyal hearts who will honour and tend her,
And make my fair daughter a Queen of the Sea.
My Celt and my Saxon
Shall ne’er turn their backs on
The minions of tyranny, envy, or hate,
Should they dare assail her,
My sons shall not fail her,
Their strong arms shall fence in thy Southern estate,
Thy Southern estate,
Thy Southern estate.
In majesty rises a bold and a free land,
The starry cross glows
O’er the unsullied snows
That crown her grand mountains—Hurrah for New Zealand!”
Oh, brothers! our race has a time-honoured story,
With pride we look back on the days that are gone;
Before us, Fame holds in a halo of glory
The map of our future, and beckons us on.
The East with its pleasures,
The West with its treasures.
The North with its lore, on our country shall wait;
All freemen shall cheer her;
And tyrants shall fear her,
For freedom’s at home on her Southern estate,
Her Southern estate,
Her Southern estate.
In majesty rises a bold and a free land,
The starry cross glows
O’er the unsullied snows
That crown her grand mountains—Hurrah for New Zealand!
With pride we look back on the days that are gone;
Before us, Fame holds in a halo of glory
The map of our future, and beckons us on.
The East with its pleasures,
The West with its treasures.
The North with its lore, on our country shall wait;
All freemen shall cheer her;
And tyrants shall fear her,
For freedom’s at home on her Southern estate,
Her Southern estate,
Her Southern estate.
In majesty rises a bold and a free land,
The starry cross glows
O’er the unsullied snows
That crown her grand mountains—Hurrah for New Zealand!