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The Tapanui's lofty peaks
Now covered white with snow,
Winter's blast the summit sweeps
And cold winds through the valleys blow.
With foliage on their bosom wrought,
Bright clumps of Nature's evergreen,
Whose fairest forms bewitching sought
To aid and beautify the rural scene.
And while I viewed this lovely dell,
Where beauty seemed to charm and stay,
Oh, what on earth could there excel
The twining creeper in its rustic sway.
For fame I cared not, yet still I sat;
I thought to dwell and linger on;
I viewed each gully, range, and flat,
The stately birch grouped in a patch, alone.
I saw the Clutha in her pride,
Her waters flowing fast;
How swiftly onward they did glide
In grand succession past.
Her banks clad with manuka scrub
And cliffs projecting stone
Through herbage green that ne'er was scrubbed,
No flocks can enter there.
Gorges from the upland range
Stretch downward to the river,
Streams meandering on in many a change
Through trackless wastes for ever.
And all the while increasing flows
The Clutha's noble winding river,
Through scenes sublime she onward goes,
Abrupt, undaunted, sweeping thither.
Roll on, majestic river! On
Thy rock-bound course pursue,
Fed by a thousand streams along,
Romantic, noble, grand to view.
W.B.W.
Watson's Bush, 10th May, 1865.
Published: Tuapeka Times, 13 June 1903, Page 3
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