"For the Fallen" is a poem written by Laurence Binyon. It was first published in The Times in September 1914. Over time, the third and fourth stanzas of the poem (usually now just the fourth) have been claimed as a tribute to all casualties of war, regardless of state. This selection of the poem is often taken as an ode that is often recited at Remembrance Day services, and is what the term "Ode of Remembrance" usually refers to. Background Laurence Binyon (10 August 1869 – 10 March 1943), a British poet, was described as having a "sober" response to the outbreak of World War I, in contrast to the euphoria many others felt (although he signed the "Author's Declaration" that defended British involvement in the war, appearing in The New York Times on 18 September with 54 other British authors—including Thomas Hardy, Arthur Conan Doyle, and H.G. Wells). A week after the war began in 1914, Binyon published his first war poem, "The Fourth of August" in The Times. Writing On 23 August, in Britain's opening action of World War I on the Western Front, the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) suffered a loss at the Battle of Mons and the subsequent lengthy retreat. The extent of fighting to follow was not revealed as casualties were comparable to past European wars. "For the Fallen" was specifically composed in honour of the casualties of the BEF, written immediately following the retreat from the Battle of Mons. Binyon composed the original poem while sitting on the cliffs between Pentire Point and The Rumps in north Cornwall, UK. A stone plaque was erected at the spot in 2001 to commemorate the fact. The plaque bears the inscription:For the Fallen Composed on these cliffs 1914 There is also a plaque on the East Cliff above Portreath in central North Cornwall which cites that as the place where Binyon composed the poem. It was published in The Times on 21 September 1914, just seven weeks after the beginning of the war. Poem With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, England mourns for her dead across the sea. Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit, Fallen in the cause of the free. (14) Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres. There is music in the midst of desolation And a glory that shines upon our