Remembering John McCrae Flanders field, Flanders fields poem, Poems
In Flanders Fields Poem Printable. A printed text as below and a handwritten copy where the first line ends with grow instead of blow, as. Short days ago we lived, felt.
Remembering John McCrae Flanders field, Flanders fields poem, Poems
A printed text as below and a handwritten copy where the first line ends with grow instead of blow, as. To you from failing hands we throw. The larks, still bravely singing, fly. In flanders fields the poppies blow. Web we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved and were loved, and now we lie. And in the sky the larks, still bravely singing, fly scarce heard amid the guns below. Between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place; Be yours to hold it high. Web in flanders fields the poppies blow between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place; Short days ago we lived, felt.
To you from failing hands we throw. The larks, still bravely singing, fly. Web 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. Web we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved and were loved, and now we lie. In flanders fields the poppies blow. Be yours to hold it high. Between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place; Scarce heard amid the guns. To you from failing hands we throw. Short days ago we lived, felt.
