The poppies are blooming in Flanders field
And the streets of Paris are gay-
The horrid grief of a world at war
Is only a dream today.
The cannon's roar and the shrapnel's whine
Have faded in passing years,
The rosy sun of the days of peace
Has dried up the blood and tears.
The weary tramp of the "Big Parade"
Is only an echo now;
No longer our battle cries resound,
Our lips have forgotten how.
Thanks be! That the din of it all is past,
Its horror and grief, but yet
Keep deep in our hearts some memory still
For, oh God! If we should forget!
-Kathryn L. Ragan
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