On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month…

This is the poem I always associate with Remembrance Day; I remember it being read in assembly at school.

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.

Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)

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One Response to On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month…

  1. There’s a beautiful musical arrangement of this that we always used to sing at school. I went to the Westminster Abbey memorial – lots of wooden crosses in the ground for different regiments and groups, with smaller crosses laid by donators and wellwishers. I found a Bromilow in the list of names of dead unknown soldiers, got one of the smaller crosses, and wrote this poem on it.

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