We left them where we loved them
with the love that years renew,
We left them to the flowers, to the
sunshine and the dew,
And we placed a Cross above their heads
because their souls were true.
We left them where we loved them in the
valleys which had borne
Wealth of fruit and grace of flowers, field
on field of glowing corn:
Now a grass-grown, shell-ploughed desert
lying voiceless in the morn.
Town Hall, Morecambe, Lancashire, England, United Kingdom
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