ON THE DEPARTURE OF BISHOP SEL

Ο

WYN FOR NEW ZEALAND.

DECEMBER, 1841.

N England's shores the Tomatin unfurled

Her sails to waft her o'er one half the world: And with a troop of friends upon the strand, Of whom some wept, appeared a parting band Called hence for earth's remotest isles to steer, And shape in utmost Zealand their career. And raised above the multitude was one

Towards whom all turned as towards a central sun A youthful head erect in mitred state;

And with a dignity inviolate,

Mixed with a look of sweet accord, he drew

Such reverence as to age alone seemed due.
For holiest thoughts were legible in his face,
With quiet ornament of genuine grace.
Even in that hour he wore a cheerful guise;
And on his lofty brow, and in his eyes,
Lightened a soul of resolute emprise ;
And whilst affectionate farewells he spoke,

"He bore his great commission in his look."*
The prayer was said—the benediction given—
In the full canvas sat the wind of Heaven;
The deck receded-still upon his tongue
The loved and honoured name of Eton hung;
So forth they fared upon the pathless sea,
A goodly fellowship-a glorious company.

Devoted spirit! we cannot choose but take
Shame to ourselves, for thy privations' sake,
Whilst soft civilization showers around

Our homes all luxuries of sight and sound.
Whence admiration of endurance takes
Soft melting hues; nay, pity's self awakes,
Roused at the call of friendship, that began
In school-boy days, and now binds man to man.
Yes! we will seek with thee that distant shore;

And though with bodily eye we see thy face no more,
Such is our love, in vain shall ocean roll

His bars between, to sever soul from soul.

What hope was thine when dashed the rainbow

spray,

A cheering emblem through the tedious day,

* DRYDEN, Character of a Good Parson, from Chaucer.

Over thy vessel's

prow,

and far away

She held her lengthened course, unvexed by storms
That call up terror in a thousand forms!
Month after month the measureless ocean-wild
Mirrored the azure firmament, that smiled
With sunlit influences upon the deep,

And lulled the tempest in unwonted sleep;
Till in the very haven where thou would'st be,
Omen of happiest futurity,

Earth, sea, sun, air, all gave the favouring sign,
Here breathes a spirit of man no other than divine;
And ere thou might'st address thy future flock
Of cinctured islanders, each barren rock,
And distant bowery hill, and glistening cove,
Was hailed by thee with joy akin to heavenly love.

And whilst the militant Church in open sight
Of men arrays her panoply for fight,
Once and again with ringing warrior tones
And with a mighty stirring of dry bones,

And voices louder waxing, trumpet-pealed

With no uncertain sound on God's own battle-field, Remarshalling the broken, scattered, lost,

Confederation of her ancient host,

Intent offending Christians to rebuke

Towards Zealand she inclines with sweet inviting look.

And in thy sacred function a serene
Example of endurance shall be seen,
That the highway before Her shall prepare,
Sweet-minded Prelate! Thou, true messenger
Of peace, shalt raise the Savage of the wild,
And gently draw him: lordly, yet a child,
He loves thy pastoral care, and precepts nobly mild.

Thus quickening with vitality intense, The germ of national pre-eminence, Watered by true religion, shall take root, And bear for unborn ages richest fruit. Then shall a fair ingenuous race explore The darkling mines of intellectual lore; And eager-hearted industry give birth To the respondent claims of social worth. The prairie and the fern-grown waste shall teem With culture, there the golden harvest gleam; And commerce from untold resources spring; And vessels shoreward crowd " on wheel or wing."*

And kindling to the genius of the clime,

Shall polished arts succeed, and high-built rhyme

From native imagery shall take its tone,

And hallow mighty deeds of warriors done

Campbell.

In chivalrous feats of arms, not barbarous war;
So shall thy Zealand shine the leading star
Fixed in the galaxy of lustrous isles

That o'er the one half world of waters smiles.

And measured by thine aim, that seeks the skies, Thereafter shall a temple-dome arise, Of vast proportions just, yet intricate, Of symmetry befitting Christian state; Elaborate with gold, with marble bright, From tessellated floor to fretted height; Where the discriminating eye shall trace Fresh combinations, and new forms of grace, Caught from the o'er-arching woodland colonnades, And pendent scenery of those savage glades, From Nature's own soft architecture won To live by native art transferred to stone. And in that temple shall glad crowds attend, And to the light revealed in reverence bend; Whilst to reverberating vocal choirs,

And breath of organ-pipes, the anthem lends its fires.

And though to see thy Zealand in her prime
May not be given, yet, triumphing o'er time,
One solace is behind, if those that feed
By faith upon the future solace need.