130 . . Voijage of the Novara. 



DIRGE OF TE-HUHU. 



Behold the glare of the lightning ! 



It seems as though it had cleft in twain the steep'hills of Tuwhare. 



Dropped from thy hand thy weapon, 



And thy spirit, it vanished 



Behind the lofty ridges of Raukawa ! 



The sun hid his face, and hasted away. 



As a woman hurries from the strife of battle ! 



The waves of ocean mourn as they rise and fall, 



And the hills of the south melt away ! 



For the spirit of the chieftain 



Was winging its way to the dwellings of Rona ; * 



Open, ye gates of heaven ! 



Tread thou the first heaven ! tread thou the second heaven ! 



And when thou dost traverse the spirit land, 



And its dwellers shall ask thee, " What meaneth this ? " 



Tell that her wings were torn from this our world, 



When he died, the strong one. 



Our leader in the roar of battle ! 



Atutahi and the stars of the morning 



Look pitifully down from their fastnesses, 



The earth reels to and fro. 



For the mightiest support of her childi-en lies low ! 



my friend ! the dew of Hokianga 

 Shall penetrate thy body ; 



The waters"of the brooks shall dry up. 

 And the land become desolate : 



1 see a cloud rising afar 



Above the head of Heke the renowned ! 



May^he be annihilated, for ever 



Brought low to nothingness ! so may the heart. 



Now mourning in its depths, ne'er think of evil more ! 



As deeply imbued with the spirit of true poetry is the 



* Rona is a Maori maiden of whom a legend relates that the moon, irritated at 

 her petulant disposition, carried her off to the upper regions. 



