In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
3 comments:
Thanks for posting that Podgy.
*holding up poppies in remembrance*
All the Bears and Jim
A day late, but still perhaps that how a response should be...
We Shall Keep The Faith
Moina Michaels, 1918
Oh! You who sleep in Flanders Fields,
Sleep sweet-to rise anew
We caught the torch you threw
And, holding high we keep the faith
With all who died.
We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows on field where valor led;
It seems to signal to the skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the dead
In Flanders Fields.
And now the torch and poppy red
We wear in honor of our dead.
Fear not that ye have died for naught;
We’ve learned the lesson that ye taught
In Flanders Fields.
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