The sleeper of the valley

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  1. In Flanders fields, the poppies blow,

    between the crosses, row on row,

    that mark our graves, and in the sky,

    the larks still bravely singing, fly

    Scarce heard amid the guns below.

    I recited this all from memory. This is one of the best poems and later song that I have read, by John McCrae, Canadian lieutenant-colonel, 1915. He would die in 1918 from pneumonia.