Lest We Forget

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

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