Rupert
Brooke.
For England 's the
one land I know ,
Where
Men
with
Splendid
Hearts may
go ;
And Cambridgeshire , of
all
England
,
The
shire for Men who Understand
;
And
of
that district
I
prefer
The
lovely
hamlet
,
Grantchester
.
For Cambridge
people
rarely
smile
,
Being
urban
,
squat
,
and
packed
with
guile
;
And
Royston men
in
the
far
south
Are
black
and
fierce
and
strange
of
mouth
;
At
Over
they
fling
oaths
at
one
,
And
worse
than
oaths
at
Trumpington
;
And
Ditton
girls are mean
and
dirty
,
And
there
's
none
in
Harston
under
thirty
,
And
folks
in
Shelford
and
those
parts
Have
twisted
lips and twisted
hearts
,
And
Barton men make
cockney
rhymes
,
And
Coton
's
full
of
nameless
crimes
,
And things are done
you
'd
not believe
,
At Madingley
,
on
Christmas
Eve
.
Strong
men
have
run
for miles
and miles
,
When
one
from
Cherry Hinton
smiles
;
Strong men
have
blanched
,
and
shot
their wives
,
Rather
than
send
them
to
St
.
Ives
;
Strong
men
have
cried
like
babes
,
bydam
,
To
hear
what
happened
at
Babraham
.
But Grantchester
!
ah,
Grantchester
!
There
's
peace
and
holy
quiet there
,
Great clouds along
pacific
skies
,
And men
and
women
with
straight
eyes
,
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