If I should die, think only this of me: br That there's some corner of a foreign field br That is for ever England. There shall be br In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; br A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, br Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, br A body of England's, breathing English air, br Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. br br And think, this heart, all evil shed away, br A pulse in the eternal mind, no less br Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; br Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; br And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, br In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.