Bay of Plenty Times 23 September 1892 (p1)
Tauranga is famous for beauty sublime,
With its harbour, its Mount, and its exquisite clime;
Its mountains are forest clad, skies bright and clear,
And now of its people we something must hear.
The soil is good, and our plants flourish well,
Before mentioning others of these I will tell
We have Lemons and Thistles, and Bushes and Moss,
and Roses, and Brambles; we also have Gross.
We have Butchers, and Bakers, and Tanners, and Daines,
And Turners, and Potters; and, best of all, Brains;
We also have Gardiners, and Millers, and Bell,
With Smiths, and with Carters, too many to tell.
But all these, alas ! quite neglectful of trade,
Have now taken up other callings instead.
We have Bakers who could not bake cakes if they tried,
And Tanners unable to tan us a hide.
Our Turners turn nothing, and touch not our wood,
Our Cooks sail the seas, quite forgetting on food,
And as for our Taylors, they all must confess,
That they heed not our clothes, and think nothing of dress.
Our Butchers they care not for meat or for trade,
They have taken up land and turned farmers instead;
Our Gardiners they use not the spade or the hoe,
Our Smiths have no anvils, or bellows to blow.
We have Millers who scarcely know barley from wheat,
And Carters whose carts are ne'er seen on the street;
Whilst our Potters, dispising a lucrative trade,
Have taken snug Government billets instead.
Our Shepherds heed neither the lambs or the sheep,
But, preferring; the pen, to the office, will keep;
Our Crabbes live on land, and I am happy to state,
That, changing their nature, they even walk straight.
We have Whites and we've Blacks, with Greens and with Balls,
And, lucky for dancers, we also have Halls;
We have men of all colours we've Redmond and Brown
Not to name many others who live in our town.
To mention them all I shall never succeed,
The task is a great one — a great one indeed;
For what thousands on thousands our district affords,
We can boast of our Lundon, our Burrows, and Wards.
To say nothing of Streets, our Rhodes, and our Ways,
Are all of much merit, and worthy of praise,
And also of rulers our, share it affords,
We've one King, and one Commons, though no "House of Lords."
And next come the poets, how many we’ve got!
With our Crabbe, our Grey, our Elliot and Scott;
Besider Collins, and Knowles, and Thompson, and Watts,
And our absent friend Goldsmith, not the least of the lot.
And then for great churchmen, I am happy to state,
Though our Farrar is gone, we've Butler and Tait;
Besides Watts, Clarke, and Kingsley, who dwell in our town,
All names of distinction, and men of renown.
And next, for sailors good and great, we have not far to look,
For though no Nelson we have got, we boast a Captain Cook,
And then of famous authors too, how pleasant 'tis to find,
That, though McCauley left our town, Johnson remained behind.
And as for the parsons, a good share we've got,
Wish our Jordan, and Marshall, our Goodyear and Scott;
Besides we have Vickers, and Daines, too, as well,
And Clarkes in great numbers to many to tell.
Father Gilsenan our priest, of the Catholic creed,
Without wife, without child, is a father indeed.
With a David, and Daniel, we well may feel proud,
And a Whelan, who sees that no evil's allowed.
We ought to be good, and we ought to be wise,
With our churches, and Chappells, to point to the skies;
Though we have no Pope, and no Bishop to preach,
We are fortunate still, we've an Abbott to teach.
We've a Moon to enlighten, should darkness succeed,
We've a Mann, to supply us with all that we need,
And, if sick, our Bullen will cure all our ills,
Without Hitchens, or Seigel's, or Holloway's pills.
We once had our troubles, but now it is clear
They are things of the past; we have no thing to fear
Should the Hauhaus return, we need not resort
To our well-built redoubt— with our Marshall and Forte.
Though no trains, we have Kerrs, of great use to us all,
With our good, and our great ones, Oh ! how could we fall;
With a Moses to lead us, Howards, good and wise,
And a Lever to raise us, we are certain to rise.
Then at Oropi we've "Kensington Gardens" and Bridges, and all,
With a view that is famous, and water that doth fall
O'er the rock in a tumult; and I scarce need to speak
Of Woodcote's famous hill where, now resides a Peake.
We are proud of our district, as well we may be,
For few, few indeed, are as favoured as we;
What pleasure it gives, all our good to recall,
For we boast of our Stevens, our Peter, and Paul.
Among seas, both for Black, and for White, we may look,
In rivers we've Jordan, in mounts we have Cook,
And as for our clothes, both for day and for night,
We have "Temple of Fashion," provided by Wright.
Though the evil may slander, and say we are slow,
That our Bells never ring, and our Horns never blow;
We will mind our own business, and walk our own way,
And heed not the croakers, whatever they say.
We have Hunters, and Hunts, and although we've no deers,
Yet we boast of our Foxes, our Badgers and Hares;
Of the mighty we've Samson, this can't be denied,
And that we've a Gladstone, I mention with pride.
Then Ward of the Times, though not stout, strange to tell,
Fills the Editor's chair both completely and well,
And with Elliot his partner, an excellent man,
Is pushing our district as fast as he can.
As we've fish, and we've Fishers, of course we have Gills,
And Tunkses, and Darleys, and Dowells, and Hills
Also Cappers, and Louches, and Toveys, and Shaws,
With Rowleys, and Raymonds, and Jordans in scores.
Then Cramer, our new chum, who cuts quite a dash,
And Harry Bell Johnston, with plenty of cash,
And Vercoes, and Snodgrass, Matheson, and Knight,
With Brabant of Woodhill who battles for right.
We once in wars and conflicts strove, nor laurels gained, nor wreaths,
We gladly yielded up our swords, but could not spare the Sheaths;
No stagnant swamps have we to fear, the cause of many ills,
Instead of these, we view with pride, our Marshes, Dales and Hills.
Of Macs we have plenty, McKay and McCaw,
With McNaughton, McRoberts, McDowell and more;
We also have Maxwells and Murphy as well,
Also Marley and others whose names I can't tell.
It is well for us all, that Salt we have got,
And our farmers are, surely, a fortunate lot;
For in buying their seed they need fear no pretence
They are lucky indeed, they've a Bennett and Spence.
Not to speak of fair Eve or her daughters at all,
We can boast of our Adams, who knew not a fall;
That we've " Gardens of Eden" this certainly shows,
That, without any thorns, here will flourish a Rose.
Some say that we have the " Old Gentleman'" too,
But this I can't credit, and won't believe true.
I now must be brief, ere the pen down I throw,
And simply will mention the names in a row.
In A. we have Armitage, Armstrong, and more,
With Allens and others I mentioned before;
Also Allelys we find here, in numbers not few,
And Ashers, with Asser, I may mention too.
Blundell. Baber, Blick, Bonner, Booth, Bickers, Bodell,
With Browns in great number, too many to tell;
In C. we have Crump, a smart man with much dash,
Who has just one fault, he is rather too rash.
Our newcomer Duddie, ne'er comes our way,
Of him I know little and nothing will say;
DeBourbel supplies us with books which we read,
The Darraghs are thriving, and sure to succeed.
In H. we have Hulme, Hoyte, and Hamilton, too,
Humphreys, Hammond, and Haua our horses to shoe.
Next come our Galbraiths, also Gilmore I name,
Besides we have Joneses of musical fame.
Then Lillington, who teaches our children so well,
We have Ludwigs besides, we have also Lovell,
In M., we've McCullough, Madden, and Maunsel,
Munro and Mannix and more I might tell.
I must now mention Purdie, and Pratt at same time,
And our musical Parker, whose singing's sublime.
Then next comes our Robson, who is not very well,
And now of our Robinsons I also must tell.
That we have " Royal Stuarts " must fill as with pride,
We also have Soutars and Tuthills beside;
Our artistic friend Vogan, we must not forget
Nor yet our Firth Wriglev, who is not back yet
With Webb, Whitcombe, and Wilmott, our list is increased,
And Duffus of Topcroft, though last not least;
With best wishes to all I now lay down the pen,
And, probably, shall not resume it again.
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