Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/160

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The Legend of Papa and Rangi.
Profusion uncultured, nor needing it—Haumia; lastly, the fiercest of any, the RiderOf Tempests—Tawhiri, joy-wild when his sons—when the Winds multitudinous rush with the rattleOf hail and the sting of sharp showers and the hurry of turbulent clouds to aerial battle.All these did the weight of vast Rangi o’erwhelm; there restlessly, rampantly, brother on brotherLay writhing and wrestling in vain to get free from the infinite coil and confusion and smother;Till the forest-God, Tane, with one mighty wrench irresistible prized his great parents asunder—With his knotty and numberless talons held down—held the Earth and its mountain magnificence under,Heaved the Heavens aloft with a million broad limbs shot on high, all together rebounding, resilient:Then at once came the Light interfused, interflowing—serenely soft-eddying, crystalline—brilliant!—Now the Sons all remained with the Earth but Tawhiri; he, sole, in tempestuous resentment recedingSwept away at the skirts of his Father—the Sky; but swiftly to vengeance and victory leadingHis livid battalions, returned in his terrors, his kindred with torment and torture to harry:Tangaroa rolled howling before him—even Tane bowed down; could his blast-besplit progeny parryHis blows, or withstand the full pelt of his torrents that flung them o’er wastes of white Ocean to welter?Could Rongo do more e’er he fled than conceal in the warmth of Earth’s bosom his children for shelter?—No! they shrank from the Storm-God amazed and affrighted. One brother—Tumatau—alone durst abide him,Tumatau and Man stood before him unswerving, deserted by all, disregarded, defied him!
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