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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.
Rupert Brooke |
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John Frederick Moore (1917-1941)
John Frederick Moore, child of Francis & Annie E.Moore was born in 1917. Lived in Poole. Fought in WW2 (dogtag# 1482684) as a Gunner in the 310 Bty. 72H.A.A.Regt. (attached to Royal Artillery) of the Army. Died on Mar 11 1941 at the age of 24. Buried at Sec.11. Grave 12910 Poole Cemetery in Poole.
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