In memory of ANZACs

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.*
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

LEST WE FORGET

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.

LEST WE FORGET