In+Flanders+Fields

=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 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.

- Lieutenant John McCrae