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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.
Rupert Brooke
Read poems about / on: laughter, evil, happy, peace, heaven, home, soldier, heart, flower, river, friend, dream
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| Comments about this poem (1914 V: The Soldier by Rupert Brooke) |
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Robert Quilter (9/22/2008 12:12:00 PM)
Not all war poems, have to be about legs being blown off or the horrors of trench warfare during WW1.
Context; Having spent my first 27 or so years in England, and having a Grandfather involved in WW1, this takes on a strong personal meaning to me.
The sentiment is not a currently popular attitude to take in the United Kingdom (Re: British troops in Iraq) , but to me and my rose colored glasses it does hit home.
Brooke died aged 27, having made quite a mark, in the legacy of World War 1 poets.
'some corner of a foreign field that is forever England....'is an immortal line...to me, anyway.I encourage further reading |
C May (9/20/2008 2:49:00 PM)
Although I like his style, Brooke lacks the vivid realism of war. |
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Rupert Brooke
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