A World War 1 poem by Rupert Brooke
Young Adult (18-35)
British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
a soldier. Bye, Rupert Brooke, If I should die, think only this of me. But there's some corner of a foreign field that is forever England the shall be. And that rich off a richer dust concealed a dust whom England ball shape made aware gave once her flowers to love aways to Rome. 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 give somewhere back the thoughts by England given her sights and sounds dreams. Happy is her day and laughter learn to friends and gentleness in hearts of peace under an English heaven.