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 con

cealed;

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.

-RUPERT BROOKE.

CHAPTER V

FORMAL POETRY: THE SONNET, THE ODE, THE ELEGY, AND BLANK VERSE

HE appeal of strictly formal poetry

THE

popularly is supposed to be extremely limited. A tradition obtains to the effect that formal poetry-blank verse, the sonnet, odes, epics, elegies, religious poems-are read only by the poetically elect, the academic, the student, the "highbrow." As a matter of fact, the exact reverse frequently is true.

The Bible, containing some of the finest blank verse and unrhymed poetry in existence, through long ages has been the solace of many unlettered readers who frankly have loved it as much for its manner as substance. The twenty-third Psalm, the one hundred and third Psalm, the "charity chapter" of Corinthians-aye, even in the weakened version of certain modernized renderings-the "Song of Solomon," various portions of Job and Isaiah, these are among the numerous bib

lical extracts that, comprising poetry intrinsically good and moving, always have been dear to the common heart. Let us quote, for supporting illustration, the passage from the "Song" exquisite as universally beloved.

Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come

away.

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;

The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.

Think, again, of that equally cherished and uplifting passage from Ecclesiastes:

In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grind