Spirit of ANZAC
They clad us in the colours of the forest,
and armed us with the weapons made for
war.
Then taught to us the ancient trade
of killing,
and lead us to the sound of battles
roar.
So give us comfort as we lay down bleeding,
and pray upon our cold and stiffened
dead.
But mark our place that we might be
accounted,
this foreign soil becomes our graven
bed.
Now children place upon this stone a
garland,
and learn of us each Anzac Day at dawn.
We are New Zealand's dead from distant
conflict,
our sacrifice remembered ever more.
