In Flanders Field
by: Major John McCrae, Canadian
Written at the battle of Ypres, Belgium
1915
by: Major John McCrae, Canadian
Written at the battle of Ypres, Belgium
1915
In Flanders Field the poppies grow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard among 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 quarrrel 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.
Reply
writtten by Miss Moira Michael, American
writtten by Miss Moira Michael, American
Oh! You who sleep in Flanders' fields,
Sleep sweet - to rise anew;
Sleep sweet - to rise anew;
We caught the torch you threw;
And holding high we kept
The faith with those 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
Wear in honour of our dead
Fear not that ye have died for naught
We've learned the lesson that ye taught
