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In Flanders Fields
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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We Shall Keep the Faith
Moina
Michael
Oh! You who sleep in Flanders
Fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew!
We caught the torch
you threw
And holding high, we keep the Faith
With All
who died.
We cherish, too, the poppy red
That grows
on fields where valour led;
It seems to signal to the
skies
That blood of heroes never dies,
But lends a
lustre to the red
Of the flower that blooms above the
dead
In Flanders Fields.
And now the Torch and Poppy
Red
We wear in honour of our dead.
Fear not that ye have
died for naught;
We'll teach the lesson that ye wrought
In
Flanders Fields.
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In Flanders Now
Edna
Jaques
We have kept faith, ye
Flanders' dead,
Sleep well beneath those poppies red,
That
mark your place.
The torch your dying hands did
throw,
We've held it high before the foe,
And answered
bitter blow for blow,
In Flanders' fields.
And where
your heroes' blood was spilled,
The guns are now forever
stilled,
And silent grown.
There is no moaning of the
slain,
There is no cry of tortured pain,
And blood will
never flow again
In Flanders' fields.
Forever holy
in our sight
Shall be those crosses gleaming white,
That
guard your sleep.
Rest you in peace, the task is done,
The
fight you left us we have won.
And "Peace on Earth"
has just begun
In Flanders now.
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