The Soldier

If I should die, think only this of me
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever 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



Credits
Writer(s): Rupert Brooke, Mike Read
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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