John McCrae

  1. In Flanders Fields the poppies grow
    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,

  2. 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.

  3. 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

Put into WWW by Josella Simone Playton
1997-10-03 13:40:00 MEST .. 1999-07-02 23:55:55 MEST

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