[Editor: This poem was published in The Australasian (Melbourne, Vic.), 27 April 1935.]
The Shrine of Remembrance
In years to come, some day as night shades fall
And gently hide the city, roof and spire,
Perhaps someone will watch the sunset fire,
As I have done before this noble wall.
Forget the traffic’s war, and distant call,
And dream he hears the wargod’s thunderous ire,
As with fierce, angry notes his booming lyre
Roars through the raging battle’s smoking pall,
And beats a wild, discordant harsh refrain
Of loss and sorrow, death and waste and pain —
Then turn and see the beauty of the night,
The rustling trees, and stars, and gleaming light,
And know how beautiful is life, the price
They paid, who made the splendid sacrifice.
— R., in the “Scotch Collegian,” Melbourne.
Source:
The Australasian (Melbourne, Vic.), 27 April 1935, p. 5 (Metropolitan Edition)
Editor’s notes:
lyre = a stringed musical instrument, similar to a small harp, although with a U-shaped frame with strings attached to a crossbar (especially known for its use in ancient Greece)
[Editor: Added a line break before the last line.]
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