First Lines of John McCrae
Amid my books I lived the hurrying years,Beneath her window in the fragrant nightHe wrought in poverty, the dull grey days,I left, to earth, a little maiden fair,I saw two sowers in Life's field at morn,Immortal story that no mother's heartIn Flanders fields the poppies blowMy lover died a century ago,Not we the conquered! Not to us the blameO guns, fall silent till the dead men hearOf old, like Helen, guerdon of the strong -Scarlet coats, and crash o' the band,Sleep, little eyesYe have sung me your songs, ye have chanted your rimes