John McCrae
John Mcrae
| O Guns, fall silent till the dead men hear | |
| Above their heads the legions pressing on: | |
| (These fought their fight in time and 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 of 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 |
|
Lest we forget
Lest we forget
