30.07.2007, 10:18
Rupert Brooke
I hear a voice heroic speak to me:
Wake from thy sleep; they closet dreams and lies;
And come with me beneath the open skies,
And face the foe! God calls the hour to thee
To sacrifice divine, if need there be;
And some fair day the mists from earth will rise
And Time look up to see with happy eyes
A better world for all humanity.
And so the poet-soldier heard God's call,
Blessing the day Fate threw her bloody gage;
His love for England rising over all,
He voiced the cry that thrills his noblest page;
Glad Honor reigns again in cot and hall,
And "we have come into our heritage."
I hear a voice heroic speak to me:
Wake from thy sleep; they closet dreams and lies;
And come with me beneath the open skies,
And face the foe! God calls the hour to thee
To sacrifice divine, if need there be;
And some fair day the mists from earth will rise
And Time look up to see with happy eyes
A better world for all humanity.
And so the poet-soldier heard God's call,
Blessing the day Fate threw her bloody gage;
His love for England rising over all,
He voiced the cry that thrills his noblest page;
Glad Honor reigns again in cot and hall,
And "we have come into our heritage."