August 1914 Sonnet V: The SoldierIf 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.
Return to The Grave and the Legend
The Hill - The Fish -
Dining-Room Tea -
The Old Vicarage, Grantchester -
The Great Lover
Tiare Tahiti -
Sonnet IV: The Dead -
Sonnet V: The Soldier -
Fragment