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Fields of Vimy
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Even now, the plow turns up the buttons, buckles badges of the war, in blood rich fields near Vimy, tilling not so deep as to disturb the sleeping ones; these fields of France their final place of the incantation to the greatness rest. of your land and your Beside you achievement! Are your traces of the enemy, corpuscles a little brighter, a bed mate now; his dulled by dirges the DNA would tell. You of defeat? It may have shot him was not enough. Another in the moment of your death. war was needed to Or were you blown away together at last exhaust, deplete by a shell from either side? the manhood of our nations Together now for ever and Canada, now burnishing in the foreign fields its arms, came once again of France, gave up it’s dead. Catharsis a German gene beside bled the way to peace for many a chromosome from years. We grieve. Our Canada. Not even sorrow turns more easily God can tell. to thanks and thanks Your mingled blood to glory, glory introduces is now a poppy’s pride and pride is friends blush. with war. You were a great success You are not alone. We collectively you took sorrow too. And soon enough the ridge. Observe the you will be joined by others splendid monument! just as young Hear the praise, as you. |