The Maids Of North And South.

How lovely is the Auckland girl,
How daintily she goes Through quiet park or city swirl
It seems as if she flows
Like lilies when it blows.
The supple, swaying way she walks
Recalls carnations on their stalks.
In Christchurch town the girls are staid;
But, ah, how trim and fair.
Nor ever sweeter Quaker maid
Did man's heart so ensnare
And make him sin forswear.
Methinks in that Cathedral town
Was found the first Madonna crown.
Dunedin girls are tall and true,
Like cedar on a hill.
No fonder maiden ever grew—
Maybe, there never will—
To constancy instil.
Perhaps the world has girls as sweet,
But me, I'm backing Princes Street.
Still, Wellington has got the belle—
That ardent lass of ours,
With eyes as clear as asphodel,
With smile as bright as flowers
That blush in golden hours.
Was maid so ever loved before
Since God made sea and sky and shore?

—John Barr.

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