belMarduk, he was born in 1887 and died in 1915. That's what I meant in the other thread when I said I mourn for all the poems he never wrote. Here is his most famous:


V. The Soldier



If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever 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 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.

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Here is a link to a website about him. If you go to The Collected Poems, click on that photo and you'll see what made me fall the rest of the way in love, which was well on the way already just from reading his works.
http://englishculture.about.com/aboutuk/englishculture/library/weekly/aa091500a.htm