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Read more poems by Rupert Brooke: Rupert Brooke Poems at Poetry X.

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The Soldier

Rupert Brooke

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave once her flowers to love, her ways to roam;
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Added: 12 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 11 Dec 2018 2:48 AM | Viewed: 16332 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5832/ | Viewed on 11 December 2018.
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