TRIBUTES TO THE FALLEN

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20786, 22 April 1939, Page 21 (Supplement)

TRIBUTES TO THE FALLEN

THE DEAD AT ANZAC They He by the loud water, the bare hills, Par from their native lands the brace who fell; There Time his visionary time fulfills, And Death with Freedom smiles, and all is well. We have the lesson they died to teach. We hear their voices in the wind and rain, God of our Fathers, let our honour reach So high, that we may touch their hands again. —R. Bedford.

THE HERITAGE /Here was their only country yesterday, IJt \ Their hearts and homes were here; Well loved, yet lightly owned, now far away Where desolate cliffs rise sheer. They have their everlasting heritage ; Whose names are writ on some eternal page; No more our flags fly over it; but they Who lie there all alone Gained us that strip of land above the Bay, For ever for our own. And now no land in all earth’s kingdom wide Holds half such deathless love and boundless pride. —R. Crawford. WHAT MEN THERE BE By purple hills and opalescent sea, And sunlit league of plain they lived, and they. We summer-hearted all, and life was gay. And peace was theirs, and love and liberty. And, then the clarion call sounded and suddenly, They went, a rollicking band of boys at play, Tilted at doom, and there at Anzac Bay, Died, but they showed the world what men there be. —Bartlett Adamson.

OUR GLORIOUS DEAD ; They do not see the sunset or the dawn, > Evening or the glowing splendour of the morn, They see not light nor shadow and 1 they hear No broadening cadence as another year , Passes its way, i Only we. Upon this day, 7 Remember; They once saw and heard, loved ; melody and trilling bird. Sunshine and stars bright overhead. Laughter and tears and poppies red, Before they went, • Our Glorious Dead. THEIR DAY We are content; we had our day, Brief, but splendid, crowned with' power And brimmed with action every hour. | We have no need for tears or sighs, We who passed in the heat of fight Into the soft Elysian night, I We who made our sport of death j Could we turn to tamer way? i We are content, we had our day. FOR THE FALLEN With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children. England mourns for her dead across the sea. Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit, j Fallen in the cause of the free. j They went with songs to the battle; they were young, Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow; They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted; They fell with their faces to the foe. They shall not grow old, as we who are left grow old; Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going-down of the sun, and in the morning. We will remember them. They mingle not with their laughing comrades again; They sit no more at familiar tables at home; They have no lot In our labour of the day-time; They sleep beyond England's foam. As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust, Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain, As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness. To the end, to the end, they remain, —Laurence Binyon