R. W. Lillard

Rest ye in peace, ye Flanders dead. The fight that ye so bravely led We’ve taken up. And we will keep True faith with you who lie asleep With each a cross to mark his bed, And poppies blowing overhead, Where once his own lifeblood ran red. So let your rest be sweet and deep In Flanders fields.

Fear not that ye have died for naught. The torch ye threw to us we caught. Ten million hands will hold it high, And Freedom’s light shall never die! We’ve learned the lesson that ye taught In Flanders fields.