Sing, o Muse, of the men, women, and children, Whose faces are shining with faith and Hope, Sing, of the Euphrates, and the Gallipoli shores, Sing of the good tree, the Living Tree, that bears The burden and the fruit together on heavy arms. Sing, to me, of the day when children wake up To a new Dawn, the Dawn that speaks no more Of past hatred and scorn, but of New beginnings, and summer's morning songs.