Читать книгу Our Bit: Memories of War Service by a Canadian Nursing-Sister - Mabel B. Clint - Страница 19

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 falling 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.

Lt. Col. John McCrae, Canada.

(died at Boulogne, on service. 1918.)