#Canadians
“What I spent I had; what I save… But yesterday the tourney, all the… The waving of the banners, and the… The clash of sword and harness, an… To-night begin the silence and the…
Amid my books I lived the hurryin… Disdaining kinship with my fellow… Alike to me were human smiles and… I cared not whither Earth’s great… Till as I knelt before my moulder…
“It fell on a day, that he went ou… And he said unto his father, My h… Carry him to his mother. And . .… and then died. And she went up, a… And shut the door upon him and wen…
O guns, fall silent till the dead… Above their heads the legions pres… (These fought their fight in time… And died not knowing how the day h… O flashing muzzles, pause, and let…
One spake amid the nations, “Let… From darkening with strife the fai… We who are great in war be great i… No longer let us plead the cause b… But from a million British graves…
In Flanders fields the poppies bl… Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sk… The larks, still bravely singing,… Scarce heard amid the guns below.
I saw a King, who spent his life… Into a nation all his great heart… Unsatisfied until he should achiev… The grand ideal that his manhood s… Yet as he saw the end within his r…
Ye have sung me your songs, ye hav… (I scorn your beguiling, O sea!) Ye fondle me now, but to strike me… (A treacherous lover, the sea!) Once I saw as I lay, half-awash i…
“Sleep, weary ones, while ye may— Sleep, oh, sleep!” Eugene Field. Thro’ May time blossoms, with whi… The soft wind sang to the dead bel…
“. . . defeated, with great loss.” Not we the conquered! Not to us… Of them that flee, of them that ba… Nor ours the shout of victory, the… Of them that vanquish in a stricke…
Sleep, little eyes That brim with childish tears amid… Be comforted! No grief of night… Against the joys that throng thy c… Sleep, little heart!
An uphill path, sun-gleams between… Where every beam that broke the le… Lit other hills with fairer ways t… Some clustered graves where half o… And one grim Shadow creeping ever…
“. . . with two other priests; the… and was buried by the shores of th… Chronicle. “Nay, grieve not that ye can no ho… To these poor bones that presently…
He wrought in poverty, the dull gr… But with the night his little lamp… Was bright with battle flame, or t… Of smoke that stung his eyes he he… Of Bluecher’s guns; he shared Alm…
Scarlet coats, and crash o’ the ba… The grey of a pauper’s gown, A soldier’s grave in Zululand, And a woman in Brecon Town. My little lad for a soldier boy,
