The Soldier

Rupert Brooke

1887 to 1915

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Track 1

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