Rupert Brooke

rupert-brooke

I suppose WW1 still hangs in my mind since seeing War Horse at the theatre last week. This well known poem is by Rupert Brooke.

1914 V: The Soldier

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.

I would like to read The Great Lover which is a semi-fiction, semi-biog of Rupert Brooke. It seems to have already gone out of print but is, at least, available on kindle. In terms of sexuality, he was, like so many of his ilk – not black and white (I’m thinking of Robert Graves and Siegfried Sassoon, among others).

Rupert_Brooke_Q_71073

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