Do not stand at my grave and weep.
 I am not there, I do not sleep.

 I am a thousand winds that blow.
 I am the diamond glints on snow.

 I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
 I am the Gentle autumn rain.

 When you awaken in the mornings hush,
 I am the swift uplifting rush
 of quiet birds in circled flight,
 I am the soft stars that shine at night.

 Do not stand at my grave and cry,
 I am not there, I did not die. 

-Author Unknown

...

"In Flanders Field"

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below. 

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields. 

Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands, we throw
The torch-Be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields. 

-Captain John D. McCrae