Here you will find the Poem The Dirge of poet John Le Gay Brereton
Out of the pregnant darkness, where from fire To glimmering fire the watchword leaps, The dirge floats up from those who build the pyre High and still higher That yet shall blaze across the verminous deeps. Farewell, O brother-heart, Yet we shall not forget; Though hand from hand must part, Your hope is with us yet. The clank of the swaggerer's sword And clink of the grasper's gold Are not so loud as the lover's word In a thousand echoes rolled. The lords of the tottering order sit and plot, With cunning courtesy haggling still: The insistent chorus cannot be forgot Its words are shot Like summoning rockets from the eastern hill. You, it was you who showed How Murder made his pact In busy Greed's abode, Preparing for the act. To save the fatherland They bade your comrades die, And full in their path you took your stand To kill the patriot lie. Now, lest their flags and bags be lost in flame. The desperate pair have summoned those Whose love is moderate and whose life is tame To quench in shame The light that streams where wind of warning blows. The ranks of freedom swell, The flag of love rolls out: The efficient ranks of hell Close up in deadly doubt. Moulded in battle's mire, The bullet found its mark; A living spirit, winged with fire, Flares homeward from the dark.
