A heartfelt thank-you to all the veterans, and I hope that your Veteran's Day/Rememberance Day services went well..
Up here in Canada this was the Year of the Veteran so services were particularlly large and well attended; with many having more people observing the ceremonies that since the 60s.
The University of Toronto's ceremony at Soldiers Tower had the largest attendance in years, with strong contingents of visitors from overseas to say thank-you... all in all very moving (and very hectic organizationally).
So as I've done before I'd thought I'd post two of the standard poems use in Canadian ceremonies - poems that I find particularly poignant and powerful:
Quote:
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.
Lt. Col John McRae (1872-1918) Zeta Psi UofT Chapter
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* This line was above the players dressing benches in the Montreal Canadien's dressing room in the old Forum - and is also the offical motto of the team.
Quote:
For the Fallen
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.*
They mingle not with laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;
As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
Laurence Binyon - (1869 - 1943)
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* This part of the poem is known as "the Ode" or "Ode to Comarades Fallen/Gone" and is usually read in most services as it applies to all the war dead.