Newsnight (the old soldier)

IF I should die, think only this of me;  
  That there's a corner in some shitty, pissed staind old peoples home  
That is for ever England. There shall be  
  In that shit a richer shit concealed;
All hail the dust of this welfare state
Gave once, took much, nowhere to roam,
Old bodies of England breathing feted air,
Unwashed by the carers, blest by none at home.

And think, this heart, all love shed away,  
  No pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Takes something back the thoughts by England given;  
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;  
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,  
    In hearts no peace, under this English hell.