Poem In Flanders Fields Printable. The larks, still bravely singing, fly. Web we are the dead.
In Flanders Fields Photograph by Andrew Fare
Web we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved and were loved, and now we lie. Web we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved and were loved, and now we lie, in flanders fields. To you from failing hands we throw. Take up our quarrel with the foe: Take up our quarrel with the foe: Web flanders fields the poppies blow between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place; The larks, still bravely singing, fly. Web we are the dead. To you from failing hands we throw. Short days ago we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved and were loved, and now we lie in flanders fields.
Between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place; Take up our quarrel with the foe: Web we are the dead. To you from failing hands we throw. To you from failing hands we throw. And in the sky the larks, still bravely singing, fly scarce heard amid the guns below. Take up our quarrel with the foe: The larks, still bravely singing, fly. Web flanders fields the poppies blow between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place; Between the crosses, row on row, that mark our place; Web we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved and were loved, and now we lie, in flanders fields.
