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| The Two Minutes silence |
| Circa 1919 |
The silence of this great day breaks early,
The morning steals its quiet from above,
We keep the faith with those who died in glory,
We honour them in silence with our love.
We honour those who died on fields of battle,
We honour those the air have crown-ed kings,
And those who lie beneath the sea waves shackle,
In deeper depths where never sunlight springs.
Those bloodstained poppies still grow on in Flanders
Those frail flowers that bloom about our dead,
And far across the sea my vision wanders,
I see those battle wreaths about their head.
Lord give to us what they have died to give us,
A lasting peace or else they died in vain,
And thou Oh God will nevermore forgive us,
Should we in time, break faith with peace again.
For them will dawn that glorious great tomorrow,
For them that greatest triumph of our dead,
To whom we bow our heads in silent sorrow,
And then pray on, "Give us our daily bread". |
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