The Happy Warrior Read Online Free

stockmen,
    Forgot we learnt to ride
    The toughest mounts with hoofs on
    When school boys, with a pride
    That equalled any leader
    Of dauntless cavalry;
    Forgot, too, that our shots were
    More than ABC
    We never missed a target,
    Nor failed a pal when down;
    For hearts are warm in our land —
    What matters to a crown?
    Our fathers’ blood is in us
    The British pioneer!
    And those who scorn Australians;
    Old Britain’s sons must sneer.
    Let ev’ry tongue defame us,
    Let braggarts scoff and scorn,
    We’ve made a page for history
    That never dare be torn.
    We’ve shown our pluck and courage,
    We’ve rung the grim death knells,
    At Turkey’s gates we thundered
    In the famous Dardanelles.
    At school we learnt that Turkey
    Had built her forts supreme,
    And nations looked upon her strength
    More than an idle dream.
    The Dardanelles was hell’s gate,
    The world’s great monster fort,
    Too powerful to be charged at
    Or ever to be caught.
    Yet our boys braved the monster,
    Charged up the flaming mounts,
    Unheeding tongues of flame and shell
    From iron jaws and founts.
    The shells were screaming ’round them,
    The flames of hell burst forth ;
    But their blood was up and boiling
    With a fiery ’vengeful wrath.
    They took no thought of danger,
    They only saw the heights,
    And knew the Turks were hiding
    Behind those bursting lights.
    â€œNow for it, boys!” they shouted,
    â€œWe’ll break their jaws asunder;
    Don’t have them say Australia let
    The British flag go under!”
    Nor did they make an idle boast —
    They stormed, and charged, and thundered!
    Right down the ages will be read
    How every nation wondered.
    Australia’s men had courage,
    They were a priceless white men.
    Don’t mourn their dead — the honoured dead —
    Thank God they were the right men.
    Who says our boys are laggards now,
    Who calls our country black?
    Where is the laggard that would dare
    To blaze that Turkish track?
    Come, give your countrymen three cheers-
    Three good Australian yells —
    You cannot shout too loudly for
    The Dardanelles! The Dardanelles! The Dardanelles!
    E. Power-Pinn
----
    ANZAC!
    Would but some wingéd angel, ere too late, 
    Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate, 
    And make the stern Recorder, otherwise 
    Enregister; or quite obliterate !
    Omar Khayyam
    (d 1123)
    On Turkish coast it woke to life
    The symbol of a budding fame!
    And ’ere the annals made it rife
    The world had breathed the wondrous name.
    Like letters writ in human fire
    And burning through the Nation’s brain
    The mystic word seemed to inspire
    The Empire’s courage yet again.
    Australian and New Zealand men
    Had fathered it on foreign soil,
    And what they made it stand for then
    No human pow’r on earth can spoil.
    While History remains to tell
    The thrilling story to the world;
    Australia and New Zealand will
    Be famous as the flag unfurled.
    At Gaba Tepe they won their fame,
    At Suvla and Gallipoli;
    And ‘ANZAC’ was the wondrous name
    They gave it with their victory!
    Illustr’ous spot, illustr’ous name,
    That holds the mem’ry of their deeds!
    No finger points to coward’s shame,
    But bravery where courage speeds.
    On to the end of Life’s decree,
    On to that eternal close;
    When ev’ry light has ceased to be,
    And ev’ry nation’s lifeblood flows.
    Out through the channel into space,
    From whence we never can come back;
    The world will want to keep in pace
    With army lads we call’d: ANZAC!
    E. Power-Pinn
----
    Our Heroes
    A Tribute to Our Wounded Soldiers
    We sent you out with heartbreaks
    Tho’ we smiled as we said good-bye,
    For we knew you were brave lads,
    You would conquer or you would die.
    What tho’ there was danger before you!
    What tho’ it was hell’s own gate!
    You would face the danger as bravely
    As any who shared your fate.
    What tho’ there were loves behind you,
    And mothers,