May 31, 2004

Flander's Field

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.

John McCrae 1872 - 1918

Posted by GEBIV at May 31, 2004 06:34 PM

I'm in eighth grade and for our sixth grade Memorial Day celebration, I was chosen to read this poem. Not knowing if I had to meorize it, I did anyway. Turns out, I had a piece of paper with it that I could read off of. To this day, I can recite In Flander's Field off the top of my head if you asked me to. This poem has a place in the heart of anyone who knows someone who died to give this country freedom.

Posted by: Logan at April 21, 2005 12:25 PM
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