Lest We Forget

In Flanders Fields Poem By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

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.

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