A poem by an ANZAC comrade, WR Whiteside, written at Whakatane in New Zealand, 3 April 1947.
Of memories ... forever dear
Trysting place of loving hearts
Of yesterdays ... drawn near;
Of long remembered faces
Dimly thro the Veil of Time;
Voices in the far-off distance,
Cherished memories sublime
Hallowed soil of Anzac,
Bridgehead of valor, unsurpassed,
May the plots wherein they lie
Be ever spared from war's red blast!
May the sacrifice they made,
Outlast the tears of bitterness
The Sacred Flame of Anzac, light
The future's pathway down the years!
Roll on, Ye drums of memory!
Blow ,Ye bugles blow!
The pause if Ye would hear them
Answer from the long ago!
"We are the Sons of Anzac,
Who died in Freedom's name
We sought our fame not glory
In the playing of the game
Nor did we vision monuments
To glorify our memory;
We died ... that you might live
In a world forever free!
From out the past we send to you
A challenge and a call
Build a Brotherhood of Nations
A better world for all."
Remembered Sons Of Anzac
You have not died in vain!
Upon the Altar of your Sacrifice
Peace will shine again!
Who will struggle 'gainst the tempest
In memory see the light that shone;
The Sacred Flame of Anzac,
Burns on ... and on ... and on!
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