Out of the mist of yearnings, prides, and shames
We raise our cairn of glorious regret,
And with God’s honour now unite the names
Men signed in bloody sweat.
Lest we forget – for we forget so soon
The gifts so much beyond our valuing –
So much of life laid down in life’s high noon,
So much of suffering.
This is no day of pride and joy. Not thus
We come; but as poor failing suppliants will,
To ask for help from those who placed for us
The light upon the hill.
So then to God, Who gave them for our weal,
Who saw their Calvary, we hold so cheap,
Let us now pray for power to purely feel,
And help to truly weep.
Tears not of sentiment, but from a heart
That knows how great its many failures are.
God help us give in Peace the thousandth part
Of what they gave in War.
Noble and sweet to die for Fatherland –
They have the guerdon God alone can give;
So here God grant us hope to understand
Nobility to live.