Lake Scugog Historical Society Historic Digital Newspaper Collection

North Ontario Observer (Port Perry), 22 May 1919, p. 4

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| dar as perhaps most, to do with the poem that captures the inking as this poem has | all over the world. But sentl- of keep a poem alive, it lot bring to each new reading and engaging mood of beauty of those perishable fabrics in which the texture is destroyed along with the pattern. "In Flanders Fields" is the embodiment and expression of @ mood crystallized by a profound and durable idea; an idea born from the stress of a great experience In the eventful and critical hour of hu- man sacrifice. The experience itself will pass, has passed away -along § ble realities of time wa ude 's vise fon a reserves for thém the bene- £8 of sacrifices so gladly and un- ly made. 1 really think "In ders Fields" is a great poem, réat in a sort of solemn temerity which blooms with conviction at levery reading. It has the same 'elevated mood, the same profound "Substance, and communicates the ¢ exalted vision as Lincoln's 'Gettysburg address. As often as Me- rene, bon, LL f Be YI" Prone or oxtARSS ir woenmomed to ae sept their food much ' the same as they breathe the aii 'the occasion rich by its presence. In Flanders fields the popples blow 3 A mL nk Between the crosses, row on row, They read isolated i 5 a 3 ; Re That mark our place; and in the : Ji ¥ i pie tems, about. food shortage, but sueh ® £ The larks, stil bravely singing, 1, i : iq thing as this affecting their own dfoner table never esters tg ors dus their mind, and it is the sponsibility of The Obgerver We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, : to bring home to its readers a realization of the facts, as un- , Loved and were loved, and now we . 3 2 . Ue taniers Geils. B t A less something. is done, in another year, they"will not be * *hake up our quarrel with the foe; . reading about the 'hunger in Belgium but the hunger in To you from failing hands we throw Ontarl A The torch; be yours to hold it * a ntarie, : high. i : If ye break faith with us who die :¥ > The following should be memorized by levery reador of 'We shall not sleep, though poppies x v , Tre OBSERVER. grow In Flanders fields. a te re ; - Under the Presidency of Mr. J. W. Woods, a Counfer- substance of the stress is gathered 2 ow - * ; : i i " A eovosed bi the non-professional ; ence of all interested in food production was held in To- poets. Though Col. McCrae wrote 1 8 and published a number of poems and : . (3 3 ronto on Monday, May 7. perhaps loved the art with an almost i te - professional passion, he was a phy- {siclan who had made a name for Rimself in scientific medicine. "In | Flanders Fields" has been printed lina volume with twenty-nine other I pone of which is touched with {which characterizes the "poppy" poem. He affected quite often the of the rondeay, and in one oth: 'Com~ oth," gives us a glimpse of the grace and conception which we associate 'with him in the one supreme per- {formance. This is the poem: 'Cometh the night. The wind falls low, The trees swing slowly to and fro: "Around the church the headstones gray i Cluster, like children strayed away {But found again and folded so. {No chiding look doth she bestow: If she is glad, they cannot know; If ill or well they spend their day, Cometh the night. Singing or sad, intent they go: They do not see the shadows grow; "There yet is time," they lightly 5 say, i "Before our work aside we lay"; '4 'heir task is but half-done, and lo! : * Cometh the night. i | Another poem of McCrae's which shows the profounder side of his na~ ture, which was, as Sir Andrew Mac- phail tells us, deeply religious, & characteristic of his Scotch breeding and environment, is 'Anarchy': 1.saw a city filled with lust and & Fi shame, i "Where men, like wolves, slunk bo through the grim half-light; And sudden, in the midst of it, there : came | Ome who spoke boldly for the 47. cause of Right. Abd speaking, fel} before that brut- © ish 3 race Like some poor wren that shriek- hie ing eagles tear, "" N¥hile brute Dishonor, with her bloodless by and smote his lips that moved in prayer. not of God! In centuries that word not been uttered! Our ows Ry we."

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