Selected
Poems
by
Frederick George Scott
LAST
POST
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On
Vimy Ridge and Passchendaele,
Our silent armies sleep,
Through Summer’s sun and Winter’s gale
And ’neath the starry
deep;
No more for them the dawn of day.
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Nor
sunset on the hill,
Their shouts and songs have died away,
Their giant strength is
still.
The march of time goes swiftly by
And brings its care and
toil,
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But
in eternal youth they lie
Beneath a foreign soil;
With iron limbs and fire for breath
They charged amidst the
gloom,
And shared along those fields of death
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The
comradeship of doom. [Page 102]
Yet not in vain they watch and wait,
Strong champions of the
right;
They are the sentries at our gate
And guard us through the
night.
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From
selfish aim and paltry ease,
From slavery of the soul,
The men that save the land are these;
They point us to the goal.
[Page 103]
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