Does anyone no the rest of this poem "the past" by oodgeroo noonuccal?

Question

let no one say the past is dead.

The past is all about us and within.

Haunted by tribal memories, I know

This little now, whose long making

Is so much of the past.

Tonight here in Sunurbia as I sit

In easy chair before electric heater,

Warmed by the red glow, I fall into dream:

I am away

At the camp fire in teh bush, among

My own people, sitting on the ground,

No walls about me,

The stars over me,

The tall surrounding trees that stir in the wind

Making their own music.

Soft cries of the night coming to us, there

Where we are one with old Nature's lives

Known and unknown,

in scenes where we belong but have now forsken.

Deep chair and electric radiator

Are but since yesterday,

But a thousand thousand camp fires in the forest

Are in my blood.

Let none tell me the past is wholly gone

Answer 1

now is so small a part of time, so small a part

of all the race years that have moulded me.