Anzacs [poem, 14 April 1938]
10 June 2012 by · Leave a Comment
Anzacs.
A sacred name to freedom’s cause !
A beacon high and bright !
A spirit we may truly claim —
The Anzac soul of light.
’Twas born in Austral’s sunny climes,
In fields and spaces wide ;
And in New Zealand’s distant isles,
Across the Tasman tide.
It grew as does the golden grain
Of waving wheat in ear.
It grew much like the bowers that deck
The country far and near.
Fit sacrificial gift to lay
On Freedom’s holy shrine !
The incense of their deeds pervades
And life grows more divine.
Dear Austral Land ! By field and forge,
In cot and mansion too,
The Anzac spirit plants itself
And lives the whole land through.
—A. O. Lane.
