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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RETROSPECT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE BOOK OF STONES AND LILIES by AMY LOWELL ATELIER CEZANNE by CLARENCE MAJOR SURFACES AND MASKS; 6 by CLARENCE MAJOR EARTH IS ENOUGH by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JAMES GARBER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |