My heart it longs for Shortland town, I've been so long away;
I care not i f its streets are dull, Its mullock- tips are brown or gre y.
Though other skies are clear and blue, And other maids are sweet,
I'd love to feel the Shortland breeze Which blows down Pollen Street.
Across the foam, where'er I roam,
The voice of Shortland calls me home.
The dear old streets of Shortland town Appear in dreams to me;
And the scarr'd old hills of dear old Thames, In visions I do see.
To hear the rumble of the stamps, And catch the foundry's roa r,
Would seem l ike music in my ears Oh, that I were back once more!
Over the hills and across the plain, Old Shortland calls me back again.
I'd l ike to see the white- winged yachts, As they sail out from the shore;
It would fill my heart with great delight As it did in days of yore.
And the sight of a Shortland bobby's face, Would make my old heart warm;
To see him sauntering down the street In his handsome uniform.
Across the years, across the sea, The voice of Shortland calls to me.
And oh! for a sight of the old graveyard, High up on the Hape hill;
And to see the spot where we buried them - My old chums, Tom and Bill.
Since those long days, I've travell'd fa r, And seen cities of renown;
But the brightest gem of them all, Is dear old Shortland Town.
Thos. ROWLEY
Karangahake
From the Thames Star: 12 January 1918.
The dear old streets of Shortland town.
Click to enlarge the photo.
Thomas Rowley grew up in Thames during the goldrush and was the son of Charles Rowley, the Thames Letter Carrier. Thomas took out Miner' s Right # 9617 for the Karaka Goldfield on Wednesday 12 August 1868.