Friday, November 11, 2005

I remember



The Dead
BLOW out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold.
These laid the world away; poured out the red
Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be
Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene,
That men call age; and those who would have been,
Their sons, they gave, their immortality.

Blow, bugles, blow! They brought us, for our dearth,
Holiness, lacked so long, and Love, and Pain.
Honour has come back, as a king, to earth,
And paid his subjects with a royal wage;
And Nobleness walks in our ways again;
And we have come into our heritage.
- Rupert Brooke


My heartfelt thanks go out every day, but especially on November 11th, to all those who have served.



4 Comments:

At 7:12 PM, Blogger Canadi-anna said...

Glad you decided to post again to share that poem.

 
At 9:59 PM, Blogger Temujin said...

That picture in the middle is fantastic. All those medals!

See, blogging ain't so bad, is it? If you only post something like this once a week....

 
At 9:53 AM, Blogger Babbling Brooks said...

Tem, that picture is of the late Rear Admiral (R) Desmond Piers. Google the man - the stories are incredible. A true Canadian naval legend. And another hero gone. We're losing them all too quickly.

 
At 2:55 AM, Blogger Candace said...

"We're losing them all too quickly."

We are indeed. Thank you for posting the poem.

 

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