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Karen Dykes
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Page includes a clipping reporting the death of poet, Lt.-Col. John McCrae, accompanied by the text of "In Flanders Fields" and "The Anxious Dead."

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  • [start clipping] WAR POET DIES OF PNEUMONIA IN FRANCE. 1 photograph Lt.-Col. John McCrae, formerly of Montreal, whose death is reported from France. His most noted work is "In Flanders Field"; another is "The Anxious Dead." Both are given below. IN FLANDERS FIELDS --- In Flanders fields, the poppies grow Betweent he 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 lift it high! If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies blow In Flanders fields. --- -John McCrae. THE ANXIOUS DEAD --- O guns, fall silent till the dead men hear Above their heads the legions pressing on; (These fought their fight in time of bitter fear And died not knowing how the day had gone.) O flashing muzzles, pause and let them see The coming dawn that streaks the sky afar: Then let your mighty chorus witness be To them, and Caesar, that we still make war. Tell them, O guns, that we have heard their call, That we have sworn, and will not turn aside, That we will onward till we win or fall, That we will keep the faith for which they died. Bid them be patient, and some day, anon They shall feel earth enwrapt in silence deep, Shall greet, in wonderment, the quiet dawn, And in content may turn them to their sleep. - John McCrae. [end clipping]
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