- Joined
- Apr 12, 2005
- Messages
- 302
- Points
- 28
In Flanders field the poppies blow
between the crosses row on row
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 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
John McCrae (1872 -1918
between the crosses row on row
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 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
John McCrae (1872 -1918