At the going down of the sun....

Today along the edge of a field stood a solitary poppy....

They went with songs to battle, they were young
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them