Your search - *"or the years contemn"* - did not match any documents.

Russell McMahon wrote:
> 12:35am here, April 26th.
> Here at the beginning of time, the 25th has fled for another year.
> Elsewhere on earth it still has almost another 24 hours to run.
> Most of this will mean little to most.
> That's OK.
> But, if you're curious, Google a few words and marvel at what you find
> out.
>
> Suggested Google feed includes
>
>         ANZAC    Gallipoli    "or the years contemn"
>
> & separately
>
>         "in Flanders fields" (or "in Flanders field")
>
> ________________
>
> Superb World War One Encyclopaedia with links to other related sites.
>
>         http://web311.pavilion.net/FWW.htm
>
> ________________
>
> I've amended two lines to match McCrae's original from what is usually
> written.
> One line has a word omitted and the same word is substituted for
> another one further on.
> Those accustomed to the poem may spot the changes.
> Why it was ever changed and by who I don't know.
>
>
> In Flanders fields the poppies
> 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 blow
> In Flanders fields.
>
>
>                 John McCrae
>
>
> I've travelled briefly through Flanders Fields, almost 90 years after
> the events that John McCrae's famous poem commemorates. An immensely
> moving experience - far beyond what I ever expected. It's ironic that
> McCrae's challenge is still understood and very ably met by many who
> were, when he wrote, the very foe that he was challenging the reader
> to stand against.
>
>     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.
>
> The RSA here used to sell a "nice" red cloth poppy. This was replaced
> in later years by a (usually) plastic version which was much flatter
> and seemed to me a pale imitation of the 'real thing' to which I had
> been accustomed. I put the change down to commercialisation and
> cheapness of production. When we visited Flanders / Ypres /  ... I was
> saddened by the relative lack of real poppies in the fields but
> surprised and pleased to find  that the newer imitation ones were a
> much closer match to the real thing than the old ones had been. And
> when we visited the must-visit Mennen Gate where 80,000 odd names are
> inscribed - each the name of an Allied Soldier with no known grave, we
> found the newer style poppies gracing nooks and crannies in the
> memorial, made into wreaths and placed at the foot of the walls where
> a relative's name is recorded. The few real poppies we did find
> growing wild in the fields were indeed things of frail beauty and I
> can imagine them at another season blowing in the wind in their
> thousands as McCrae wrote his poem.
>
> McCrae was a Professor of medicine at McGill University in Canada and
> served as a medical officer with the Canadians. He died of wounds
> received 3 years later, 6 months before the end of the war.
>
> _____________
>
>
> Gallipoli is actually the name of a town at the Black Sea end of the
> peninsular that bears its name and nowhere near the action at Helles,
> Gaba Tepe and Sulva Bay. Winston Churchill is, arguably, poorly served
> by most accounts of his involvement. The plan was a good enough one
> but was not well executed.
>
>         http://web311.pavilion.net/FWWgallipoli.htm
>
>
> ______________________
>
> This morning thousands of New Zealanders standing in the heavy
> pre-dawn rain heard these now very familiar words
>
>         They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
>         Age shall not weary them, nor the years contemn.
>         At the going down of the sun and in the morning
>         We will remember them.
>
> The word "contemn" (despise, view with contempt) is often wrongly
> replaced by "condemn".
>
> Very few have ever seen the whole poem which these words are taken
> from.
> To me the rest has nothing like the impact of the now so familiar
> words.
> Whether this is because they are so familiar, or because someone long
> ago correctly identified the essence of the poem for posterity I
> cannot tell.
> The fact that the words are usually accompanied by the strident and
> awe inspiring note of a single bugle probably helps weld them into our
> psyches. Standing in the predawn rain may also add a little.
>
> ____
>
> 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 her spirit,
> Fallen in the cause of the free.
>
> Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
> Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
> There is a 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 uncountered:
> 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 contemn.
> At the going down of the sun and in the morning
> We will remember them.
>
> They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
> They sit no more at familiar tables at 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 are starry in the time of our darkness,
> To the end, to the end they remain.
>
>             Laurence Binyon
>             21st September, 1914
>
>
>
>
> ____________________________
>
> Cheat notes:
>
>         http://www.defence.gov.au/army/traditions/documents/InFlandersField_1.htm
>
>
>   

-- 
http://www.piclist.com PIC/SX FAQ & list archive
View/change your membership options at
http://mailman.mit.edu/mailman/listinfo/piclist