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.
John McCrae
John McCrae

John McCrae, the grandson of two emigrants who arrived in Canada from Scotland in 1849, was an artillery officer in the Canadian Contingent in the Boer War, and served as an army surgeon in the First World War. His poem ‘In Flanders Fields’ was the source of the symbol of the poppy as a sign of remembrance of those who die in war.

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