|← Rupert Brooke||Indexes|
- Second Best
- Sleeping Out: Full Moon
- The Soldier
- "Sometimes even now I may"
- Song ("The way of love was thus...")
- Song ("Oh! Love," they said, "is King of Kings...")
- Song ("All suddenly the wind comes soft...")
- The Song of the Beasts
- The Song of the Pilgrims
- Sonnet in Time of Revolt
- Sonnet Reversed
- Sonnet (Suggested by some of the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research) ("Not with vain tears...")
Ah! not now, when desire burns, and the wind calls, and the suns of spring.
All in the town were still asleep.
All night the ways of Heaven were desolate.
All suddenly the wind comes soft.
As the Wind, and as the Wind.
As those of old drank mummia.
Because God put His adamantine fate.
Before thy shrine I kneel, an unknown worshipper.
Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead.
Breathless, we flung us on the windy hill.
Come away! Come away!
Creeps in half wanton, half asleep.
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest.
Down the blue night the unending columns press.
For moveless limbs no pity I crave.
From the candles and dumb shadows.
Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June.
Hand trembling towards hand; the amazing lights.
Hands and lit faces eddy to a line.
He wakes, who never thought to wake again.
Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap.
Here in the dark, O heart.
Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void, lost in the haunted wood.
Here, where love's stuff is body, arm and side.
Hot through Troy's ruin Menelaus broke.
How can we find? how can we rest? how can.
How should I know? The enormous wheels of will.
I came back late and tired last night.
I dreamt I was in love again.
I have been so great a lover: filled my days.
I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over.
I said I splendidly loved you; it's not true.
I strayed about the deck, an hour, to-night.
I think if you had loved me when I wanted.
I'd watched the sorrow of the evening sky.
If I should die, think only this of me.
In a cool curving world he lies.
In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood.
In darkness the loud sea makes moan.
In the grey tumult of these after years.
In your arms was still delight.
Is it the hour? We leave this resting-place.
It's not going to happen again.
Just now the lilac is in bloom.
Lo! from quiet skies.
Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate.
Mamua, when our laughter ends.
My restless blood now lies a-quiver.
Not with vain tears, when we're beyond the sun.
Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour.
Now that we've done our best and worst, and parted.
Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire.
"Oh love is fair, and love is rare;" my dear one she said.
"Oh! Love," they said, "is King of Kings.
Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat.
Out of the nothingness of sleep.
Safe in the magic of my woods.
She was wrinkled and huge and hideous? She was our Mother.
Sir, since the last Elizabethan died.
Slowly up silent peaks, the white edge of the world.
So light we were, so right we were, so fair faith shone.
Some day I shall rise and leave my friends.
Sometimes even now I may.
Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept.
Stars that seem so close and bright.
Sullen athwart the freedom of the skies.
Swiftly out from the friendly lilt of the band.
Swings the way still by hollow and hill.
Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your eyes.
The damned ship lurched and slithered. Quiet and quick.
The day that Youth had died.
The stars, a jolly company.
The Thing must End. I am no boy! I am.
The way of love was thus.
The way that lovers use is this.
There is an evil which that Race attains.
There was a damned successful Poet.
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares.
They say there's a high windless world and strange.
They say, when the Great Prompter's hand shall ring.
They sleep within.
Through my heart's palace Thoughts unnumbered throng.
Today I have been happy. All the day.
Voices out of the shade that cried.
Warm perfumes like a breath from vine and tree.
What light of unremembered skies.
When Beauty and Beauty meet.
When colour goes home into the eyes.
When I see you, who were so wise and cool.
When love has changed to kindliness.
When she sleeps, her soul, I know.
When the white flame in us is gone.
When you were there, and you, and you.
Young Mary, loitering once her garden way.
Your hands, my dear, adorable.