The Soldier
The Soldier :
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.
By
Rupert Brooke
From
The Soldier
To HOME PAGE
Share this page:
| Facebook | Twitter |
|
Enjoy this page? Please pay it forward. Here's how to ... Would you prefer to share this page with others by linking to it? - Click on the HTML link code below.
- Copy and paste it, adding a note of your own, into your blog, a Web page, forums, a blog comment, your Facebook account, or anywhere that someone would find this page valuable.
|
Share this page:
| Facebook | Twitter |
|
Enjoy this page? Please pay it forward. Here's how to ... Would you prefer to share this page with others by linking to it? - Click on the HTML link code below.
- Copy and paste it, adding a note of your own, into your blog, a Web page, forums, a blog comment, your Facebook account, or anywhere that someone would find this page valuable.
|
Would you prefer to share this page with others by linking to it?