'In Flanders Fields' by John McCrae, 1872-1918Thank you, our veterans.
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. Posted: Fri - November 11, 2005 at 10:11 AM |
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Illegitimus Non Tatum Carborundum
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Total entries in this category: Published On: Nov 11, 2005 10:12 AM |