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The Soldier

By Rupert Brooke

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IfI should die .

think only this ofme:

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That there's some corner of a foreign field

That is forever England. There shall be

In that rich earth a richer dustconcealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made

aware

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And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

Gives somewhere back the thoughts byEngland given;

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Her sights and sounds; dreams

happy as her day;

And laughter, learnt offriends;

and gentleness,

In hearts at peace, under anEnglish heaven.

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