Oh, we who lived can not forget
   The call to youth, long years away --
(Grey Digger, are you marching yet
   Where grizzled warriors pass today?)
Young faces shining in the sun,
   Young minds, too young to harbor fear
Before the great task scarce begun.
   (Grey Digger, do you march this year?)

Anzac . . . And that immortal ground
   That bore the first grim harvesting --
(Grey Digger, does your footfall sound
   Where feet of your old comrades ring?)
A harvesting that but foretold
   The tale of many a bitter day
While this young land in pain grew old.
   (Grey Digger, do you pass this way?)

We saw the glint of sun on steel
  As troop by troop they sailed away --
(Grey Digger, has no bugle's peal
   Called you to march again today?)
We saw the young limbs swinging free,
   Young faces lit with purpose high --
Ripe corn for Red Gallipoli.
   (Grey Digger, are you marching by?)

Anzac . . . Upon these sun-bleached banks
   How many high hopes failed at last? -
(Grey Digger, are you in the ranks
   Of these grave veterans drifting past?)
How many strong limbs found deep rest?
   How many young hearts bade goodbye
To youth ere scarce they'd known its zest?
   (Grey Digger, you passing nigh?)

We who have lived -- can we forget
   That sad return when skies were clear?
(Grey Digger, are you marching yet?)
   He answers: but we do not hear,
He answers and his voice is glad.
   His face is shining in the sun:
"I march again as marched the lad
   My task is o'er; my goal is won.

Anzac! . . . Oh, you who've not forgot
   The careless lads, the sober men,
Be sure, altho' you mark us not,
   I with my comrades march again.
Free, free at last from memories,
   Of earthly care and human boast,
Here in your midst, tho' no man sees,
   I march with our triumphant host."

"C. J. Dennis"
Herald, 25 April 1932, p2