In Flanders Fields, and Other Poems (Classic Reprint) - Softcover

McCrae, John

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9781330571453: In Flanders Fields, and Other Poems (Classic Reprint)

Synopsis

Excerpt from In Flanders Fields, and Other Poems<br><br><br><br>About the Publisher<br><br>Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books.<br><br>This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works. This text has been digitally restored from a historical edition. Some errors may persist, however we consider it worth publishing due to the work's historical value.<BR>The digital edition of all books may be viewed on our website before purchase.

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About the Author

Sir Andrew Macphail was a noted Canadian physician and man of letters. The founding editor of the "Canadian Medical Association Journal", he also published more than ten books. He was knighted for his literary and military work in 1918. The book for which he is best remembered is "The Master's Wife".

John McCrae was a medical doctor and poet. He served with the army in the Second Boer War and later in Europe during the First World War. The suffering and death he witnessed in the war became the subject of many of his poems, including "In Flanders Fields," perhaps the most famous Canadian poem ever written. McCrae died in 1918 and was buried with full military honours.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

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.

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