RETROSPECT OF PALESTINE.

Digger (Invercargill RSA), Issue 9, 14 May 1920, Page 11

RETROSPECT OF PALESTINE.

(By "Gerardy" in "The Kia Ora Coo-ee).

There flares no tortuous fighting line, By Syrian gorge and stream. And through the groves of Palestine The limestone highways gleam; No ambulances darken them With freights of bleeding pain, So while the olives leave the stem We'll trace the past again. Full often, after winter pains, In angry days gone by A host of cream-winged battle-planes Has flecked the azure sky; Red hours of wrath and sp&echless awe HaVe stilled the voice of war While fitful, major storms of war Have stunned the quaking earth. Against a brown abandoned south No storms of wrath arise. But bordered bv eternal drought The land of Judah lies; We know it well, for we have seen Its poppied wealth in spring, • When joy arcused the foothills green And made the skylarks sing. But summer came to hurn the grass And slay the withered flowers ; The sun, a disc of molten brass, Consumed the torrid hours ; ~ And ever through the mirage, and The crimson veil of dust, Tiie mountains loomed from olive-land To rouse the wanderlust. Ah ! there were months of weariness, Monotonous and long, And there were dawns of grey distress And dusks devoid of song. Wan, stony slopes of blackened woe Ran out in hopeless haze— - But that was long, long ago, In empty, waiting days. Against the guns5 full throated scorn, Beneath Ihe leaden rains, Upon an awesome battle morn We thundered o'er the plains; And through long hours of broken sleep, When winter mists drew down, We watcbed'the hostile.shadows creep Across tbe stubble brown. At length we rose and broke the strands Our foes had woven strong, And up in stranger, fairer lands Our hopes were borne aloflg, And where the vines and tendrils - wreathe Around old village roofs, We made the foothills quake beneath A gale of flying hoofs. Oh ! there were fights and' stubborn climbs, With hardships to en'dure, And though we stumbled many times Our goal was always sure. Ah ! there were checks and gory falls, Without a requiem, Before we reached the lofty walls Of old Jerusalem. But who '11 forget the mountain mist In olive-ciad J udaea The distant liiils of amethyst When skies were heaven-clear ? We'll iffark the best, but nights of sleet, ! Through whieh we braved th'e wet Beneath the leaking bivvy sheet, We surely must forget. Along the winding Jordon, in The traek of Sheol's breath, We always swore that we should win, We scorn ed the hand of death; And after days of bitter strife With human tides to stem, We lived a happy lease of life Ea holy Bethlehem. With gleaming steel, again we rode Across a broken line, And up the long Damascus road We sped for Palestine. With steadfast mates, who always swore That we were sure to win, We crossed the Jordan long before The last poor Turk limped in. Oh ! in the happy, after days We surely must forget The dawns that brought us solemn fears The dusks that made us fret; But here, by Syrian gorge and stream Where flares no fighting line, We often drowse the while, and dream Of days in Palestine,