FRANCE.
(specially WRITTEN FOB ''the rHESS.") France, dowered France! Whose, foot is on the warm, ' Rich headlands, far and old— Whose magic mill the gold Still grinds, though shield on arip You toil. Yet gold above, Your deoert-dwellera' love. Your own have loved you! France, brave France K Who rallied to the Maid, Rapt Joan, God's gallant gill Whose ashes yet a-whirl . slow bock defeat and raid— Who, who has bled like you, To Freedom beating through? The free have loved you! . France, rayed France! Whose ©yea have road the stain, And secrets deep and old In Mother Nature's hold, — Whoso song of loves and won, Knight Roland and his peors, , Binge down the glamoured years. The Nino have loved you! France, leal France! Whose glowing eyes have won The proud, the high, the greatOne little land saw, late, A queen' of grief, undone But for the faith you bore, And ever, ever more New Zealand loves you I —JESSIE, MACKAY. January 10th, 19X9.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19190111.2.46
Bibliographic details
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Press, Volume LV, Issue 16418, 11 January 1919, Page 8
Word count
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164FRANCE. Press, Volume LV, Issue 16418, 11 January 1919, Page 8
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