The scarlet poppy burns again, The tender grasses wave,The bitter almond sheds her leaves On many a nameless grave.
The earth has healed her wounds again Where Turk and Christian met,And stark against an alien sky The cross of Christ is set.
From north and south and east and west,
With eager eyes aflame.
With heads erect and laughing lips The young Crusaders came.
The waves still wash the rocky coast, The evening shadows creepWhere through the dim, receding years They tread the halls of sleep.
O sacred land, Gallipoli!
Home of our youthful dead;
How friendly is the springing grass That shields each narrow bed!
The toiling peasant turns to pray, Calling upon his God,And little children laugh and play Where once their footsteps trod.
Mourn not for them, nor wish them back; Life cannot harm them now;The kiss of death has touched each check And pressed each icy brow.
Yet, on this day when first they died,
Turn back the troubled years; Pause in the press of life awhile;Give them again-our tears.
Capel Boake (Miss Doris Kerr)
Author.-Ca p e l Bo a k e (Doris Boake Kerr), niece of Barcroft Boake, Australian poet; born in Summerhill, Sydney, and educated in Melbourne. She has contributed verse to The Australasian and other papers, and short stories to The Bulletin, The Australasian, etc. She also contributed to The Little Track, a book of verse published by Melville & Mullen Pty. Ltd. She wrote the novels Painted Clay and Romany Mark.
General Notes.-Discuss the fitness of the phrase, " The young Crusader." Why is Gallipoli a sacred land? What is meant by "Turn back the troubled years", "Is there aught to give but tears"?
