[Editor: This poem, regarding Armistice Day (later known as Remembrance Day), was published in The Frankston and Somerville Standard (Frankston, Vic.), 12 November 1926.]
11th November, 11 a.m.
Oh, nation, pause! in solemn silence stand,
Let one deep throb ascend from every heart,
A tender tribute from our favoured land,
To those brave men who nobly did their part,
Through dark and weary years of ghastly strife,
Renouncing all — their homes, friends, love and life.
Again, as when the great procession moved,
Let memory’s vision see them march along.
Those precious boyish faces so beloved,
Strong with resolve to right the whole world’s wrongs.
And while our heads in humble reverence bow,
Record to God our fervent, changeless vow.
That we will never! — never more forget
The sacrifice they made so cheerfully;
Not only while we grieve, and eyes are wet,
But throughout time they shall remembered be,
Their souls were lighted with a quenchless flame,
Therefore, imperishable, keep their name.
But, hark! Again we hear an echoing sound,
Leaping from lip to lip, from eye to eye:
“The war is o’er!” Now let our pulses bound,
Now let us shout in songs of victory,
And while we praise our God that war is o’er,
Pray for that time when war shall be no more.
The Frankston and Somerville Standard (Frankston, Vic.), 12 November 1926, p. 4
o’er = (archaic) over (pronounced the same as “oar”, “or”, and “ore”)
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