Dame Mary GilmoreAustralian socialist and poet
Harried we were, and spent, broken and falling, ere as the cranes we went, crying and calling. Summer shall see the bird backward returning; never shall there be heard those who went yearning. Emptied of us the land; ghostly our going; fallen like spears the hand dropped in the throwing. We are the lost who went, like the crane, crying; hunted, lonely and spent broken and dying.