In honor of ANZAC Day, we bring you this work from Tasmania’s greatest poet.

 

High on the shoulders of the Apennines,

Where only grey wolves roam,
They found our Hinkler ‘mid the twisted pines,
Ten thousand miles from home.

Only the pale stars, and the wailing winds,
That lay the pine trees low,
Knew where he slept through the long winter nights,

Wrapped in his shroud of snow.