11/11/11
~ Lest we Forget ~
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 the suns of home.
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 the 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.
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.
Rupert Brook
1887–1915
Rupert Brooke was born in Rugby, Warwickshire where he attended the local school. He then gained entry into King’s College, Cambridge (1905-11) where he became a Fellow in 1912. He travelled extensively and wrote many travel letters for the ‘Westminster Gazette’, London (1912-13). At the start of the First World War in 1914, he was assigned to the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve. He saw action at Antwerp which inspired the writing of five passionately patriotic sonnets, the last of them being The Soldier. He was at the height of his fame when he died during the war aged twenty-seven. He had been on his way to serve in the Dardanelles when he died of blood poisoning at Scyros and was buried there.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
John McCrae, May 1915
It is thought that doctor John McCrae (30th November 1872 — 28th January 1918) began the draft for his famous poem ‘In Flanders Fields’ on the evening of the 2nd May, 1915 in the second week of fighting during the Second Battle of Ypres.
It is believed that the death of his friend, Alexis Helmer, was the inspiration for McCrae’s poem ‘In Flanders Fields’. The exact details of when the first draft was written may never be known because there are various accounts by those who were with McCrae at that time.
Thank you Karen.
I love it! On the island of Ocracoke off of the North Carolina coastline, there is a British Cemetery where several British submariners from WWII are buried. This poem is on there memorial and I always think it is touching.
Here is a link http://www.ocracoke-nc.com/cemetery/
A big thanks to all our Veterans who fought for freedom.
Forgot that I was signed in as The Chapeau Chateau! Jewel
Thanks Jude!
Thanks for the link Jewel…..absolutely, a heartfelt thanks to all who fought to give us freedom and a voice.
lovely post for rememberance day
That takes me right back to school. I was so moved by these poems in my early teens. I think it is a first brush with mortality and those hightened emotions of the teen years that make it all so poignant. Thinking of the war heros. My grandfather was gassed in the trenches of the first world war and had problems with his skin all his life. My husband's grandfather fought in the Battle of the Somme in his teens, fortunately for us they both survived. Beautiful post, thanks Karen XXX
Thanks Janice ~ and thanks for sharing your memories with me too…..your poor grandfather, what an awful thing to have gone through, to be gassed. And as for your husband's grandfather, every time I pass by the Somme when we drive back home,I am reminded of those young men who fought and lost their lives there….thankfully, your relations survived, but at what cost to their innocence? Thanks Janice ~ I am glad that these two poems meant as much to you as they do to me.
Karen
Thanks createwithmom. XX
Touching post for Remembrance Day. The poetry is heartbreaking…
Tracy
This is lovely. Takes me back to my school days!
A very moving post Karen ~ thanks x
A very moving post Karen ~ thanks x