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 conceal’d;
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.
Wash’d 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

Readings

The Soldier read by Rupert Evans
The Soldier read by Tom Burke
The Soldier read by Dan Stevens
The Soldier read by Hugh Dancy
The Soldier read by Rupert Evans
Select reading
The Soldier read by Rupert Evans
The Soldier read by Tom Burke
The Soldier read by Dan Stevens
The Soldier read by Hugh Dancy
The Soldier read by Rupert Evans
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