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The First Advance.

“France, throughout the ages, the last defence of civilisation against invading Vandals and Huns.”

Recently, in France, the Prime Minister of New Zealand paid the above tribute to the great work done by that country in the war.

Since first her skies reflected
The outward paths of Hate,
Proud France, by God selected,
Has held His Western gate.
Though oft' a sated vulture
Wheeled o'er her fields of fame
There burned the torch of culture
And, later, Christ's pale flame.

So ere, from farthest regions,
The summons of the guns
Had drawn the chosen legions
Of all Earth's warring sons,
Nobles and Priests and Yeomen,
Under the Flanders' sky,
To stay their ancient foemen
Marched sons of France to die.

Some in the first fierce rally
Low mounds and crosses won;
(Within the Marne's green valley,
Some sleep by old Verdun.)
In fields of legends hoary
Rest most, where Kings of yore,
Rode out to fields of glory-
Where Kings shall ride no more.

Again, at God's last muster,
(When all Earth's tales are told)
Shall with the bravest lustre
On golden records scrolled,
Shine names of hosts that slumbered
In thrice won fields of France,
Who fought 'gainst foes unnumbered
To hold the first advance.

“N. Z. R.”