Requiem
Pour out your bounty, moon of radiant shining On all this shattered flesh, these quiet forms; For these were slain, so strangely still reclining, In the noblest cause was ever waged with arms.
[To the Memory of Rupert Brooke]
Pour out your bounty, moon of radiant shining On all this shattered flesh, these quiet forms; For these were slain, so strangely still reclining, In the noblest cause was ever waged with arms.
[To the Memory of Rupert Brooke]