The Undertone

The brazen bugles’ blaring notes,
The rhythmic tread of marching feet,
And rousing drums impassioned beat,
The cheering from a thousand throats,
The lordly pomp of martial pride,The roaring flames of murder, lust,
And flashing play of sabre thrust,
The crash of cannon far and wide,
The echoes of the victors cries,
And anguished call of fallen men,
The silence of the slain, and then
I hear the song that underlies
The chorus born of death and hate
That croons and plays and softly sings
Of vanished peace and sweeter things
That chant above a tyrant Fate:
The cll of love in subtle part,
The yearning of a sister’s breast,
The sad sweet rune of fame’s bequest,
The sorrow of the mother-heart.

ANZAC August.