In Flanders Fields (version 2)

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <p><br/> IN FLANDERS FIELDS</p> <p> In Flanders fields the poppies grow<br/> Between the crosses, row on row<br/> That mark our place: and in the sky<br/> The larks still bravely singing, fly<br/> Scarce heard amid the guns below.<br/> <br/> We are the Dead. Short days ago<br/> We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,<br/> Loved, and were loved, and now we lie<br/> In Flanders fields.<br/> <br/> Take up our quarrel with the foe:<br/> To you from failing hands we throw<br/> The Torch: be yours to hold it high!<br/> If ye break faith with us who die<br/> We shall not sleep, though poppies grow<br/> In Flanders fields.<br/> <br/> John McCrae<br/></p> <p>{From a} Facsimile of an autograph copy of the poem "In Flanders Fields"</p> <p>This was probably written from memory as "grow" is used in place of "blow" in the first line.</p> <p><br/> <br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />