Chapter 5
1914. 5. The Soldier by Rupert Brooke. Read for Libbervox.org by J.L. Baldwin. 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, blessed by sons 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.
