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Lest We Forget
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 bravery
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.
By Major John McCrae
Reply to Flanders
Fields
Oh! Sleep in peace where
poppies grow;
The torch your falling hands
lets go
Was caught by us, again held
high,
A beacon light in Flanders sky
That
dims the stars to those below.
You are
our dead, you held the foe,
And ere
the poppies cease to blow,
We’ll
prove our faith in you who lie
In
Flanders Fields.
Oh! Rest
in peace, we quickly go
To you
who bravely died, and know
In other
fields was heard the cry.
For
freedom’s cause, of you who lie,
So still
asleep where poppies grow,
In
Flanders Fields.
As in rumbling sound, to and fro,
The lightning flashes, sky
aglow,
The mighty host appear, and
high
Above the din of battle cry.
Scarce heard amidst the guns
below,
Are fearless hearts who fight
the foe,
And guard the place where
poppies grow.
Oh! Sleep in peace, all you who
lie
In Flanders Fields.
And
still the poppies gently blow,
Between
the crosses, row on row.
The
larks, still bravery soaring high,
Are
singing now their lullaby
To you
who sleep where poppies grow
In
Flanders Fileds.
John
Mitchell |
