Anzac

Within my heart I hear the cry
  Of loves that suffer, souls that die,
  And you may have no praise from me
  For warfare’s vast vulgarity;
  Only the flag of love, unfurled
  For peace above a weeping world,
  I follow, though the fiery breath
  Of murder shrivel me in death.
  Yet here I stand and bow my head
  To those whom other banners led,
  Because within their hearts the clang
  Of Freedom’s summoning trumpets rang,
  Because they welcomed grisly pain
  And laughed at prudence, mocked at gain,
  With noble hope and courage high,
  And taught our manhood how to die.
  Praise, praise and love be theirs who came
  From that red hell of stench and flame,
  Staggering, bloody, sick, but still
  Strong with indomitable will,
  Happy because, in gloomiest night,
  Their own hearts drummed them to the fight.