Page:A Highland Regiment.djvu/27

 Oh, you that fought your battles

Beneath the Southern Cross,

The earth was kinder to you,

You could not feel your loss,

Nor waken every morning

And clear before you see

The grassy fields and meadows

Where you would wish to be.

But in a haunted corn-land

We move, as in a dream

Of quiet hills and hedges

And a swift-flowing stream,

And on the hills about us

Through all the din of war,

The home that we were born in,

And we shall see no more.