If English oaks should fret with shade their tomb,
Let them have burial here; for one would say
"I shall sleep soft if some once haunted room,
Keep token of me when I take my way."
And one again, "The boon of quietude
Is sweet if that old corner of the stream
Where last I saw the creepered window gleam
Keep memory of my days of lustihood."
7
Some blossoming orchard-plot, some fencéd field,
Some placid strip of furrow-stainéd earth,
Or some grey coil of cottage smoke shall yield
Tribute to them that brought their kin to birth.
And this, in city or in lonely wood,
Shall be the guerdon of the death they died,
The cry of Folk made one in pangs of pride—
"They fell, not faithless to the Lion-brood."
FOOTNOTE:
[1] Mount York, in the Blue Mountains, New South Wales, where stands a monument erected in memory of three intrepid Australian explorers: Blaxland, Lawson, and Wentworth.
Printed by Butler & Tanner Frome and London
SECOND EDITION.
LOVE LETTERS OF AN ANZAC