(1887-1915 / Warwickshire / England)

1914 V: 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.

User Rating: 3,5 / 5 ( 181 votes ) 65

Other poems of BROOKE (117)

Comments (65)

I am from India I love your poems and this poem was very very nice
One of the best war poems. Thank you. Soldier know the value of home in the mist of war.
Join me plz
My God, what a load of vacuous drivel.
This is very inspiring
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