John McCrae

(30 November 1872 – 28 January 1918 / Guelph, Ontario)

John McCrae Poems

1. Upon Watts' Picture Sic Transit 1/3/2003
2. Then And Now 12/31/2002
3. The Unconquered Dead 12/31/2002
4. The Warrior 12/31/2002
5. Unsolved 12/31/2002
6. The Song Of The Derelict 12/31/2002
7. Quebec 12/31/2002
8. The Night Cometh 12/31/2002
9. Penance 12/31/2002
10. The Dead Master 12/31/2002
11. The Oldest Drama 12/31/2002
12. The Captain 12/31/2002
13. The Harvest Of The Sea 12/31/2002
14. The Dying Of Pere Pierre 12/31/2002
15. Equality 12/31/2002
16. Slumber Songs 12/31/2002
17. Isandlwana 12/31/2002
18. Mine Host 12/31/2002
19. In Due Season 12/31/2002
20. Recompense 12/31/2002
21. Eventide 12/31/2002
22. The Shadow Of The Cross 12/31/2002
23. Disarmament 12/31/2002
24. The Pilgrims 12/31/2002
25. A Song Of Comfort 12/31/2002
26. The Anxious Dead 12/31/2002
27. The Hope Of My Heart 12/31/2002
28. Anarchy 12/31/2002
29. In Flanders Field 1/3/2003

Comments about John McCrae

  • Duffus (1/4/2018 10:39:00 AM)

    Learning about him at the mo

    15 person liked.
    16 person did not like.
  • Denise Remillard (11/12/2017 4:52:00 PM)

    One of the greatest Canadian.
    It makes me proud to be Canadian thanks rob him.

    15 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
  • Breggles Schanuzer (1/29/2014 11:29:00 AM)

    i learnt this poem in school after we learned about WWI

    56 person liked.
    42 person did not like.
  • Borgjie Distura Borgjie Distura (11/8/2011 6:33:00 PM)

    It touched my heart I love it.Once I heard this poem I almost cried its so good. He's a ARTIST

    117 person liked.
    57 person did not like.
Best Poem of John McCrae

The Anxious Dead

O guns, fall silent till the dead men hear
Above their heads the legions pressing on:
(These fought their fight in time of bitter fear,
And died not knowing how the day had gone.)

O flashing muzzles, pause, and let them see
The coming dawn that streaks the sky afar;
Then let your mighty chorus witness be
To them, and Caesar, that we still make war.

Tell them, O guns, that we have heard their call,
That we have sworn, and will not turn aside,
That we will onward till we win or fall,
That we will keep the faith for which they died.

Bid them ...

Read the full of The Anxious Dead

In Due Season

If night should come and find me at my toil,
When all Life's day I had, tho' faintly, wrought,
And shallow furrows, cleft in stony soil
Were all my labour: Shall I count it naught

If only one poor gleaner, weak of hand,
Shall pick a scanty sheaf where I have sown?
"Nay, for of thee the Master doth demand
Thy work: the harvest rests with Him alone."

[Report Error]