In Flanders Fields and Other Poems/In Flanders Fields

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In Flanders Fields and Other Poems John McCrae In Flanders Fields

The Anxious Dead→

Other versions: 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.