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The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble and the rough male kiss of blankets.

Rupert Brooke

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Rupert Brooke
Age: 28 †
Born: 1887
Born: January 1
Died: 1915
Died: January 1
Poet
Rugby
Warwickshire
Rupert Chawner Brooke
Rupert Chaucer Brooke
Bed
Blanket
Cool
Sheets
Soon
Smooth
Trouble
Rough
Sleep
Kiss
Away
Male
Males
Kindliness
Kissing
Blankets

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Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear, Each secret fishy hope or fear. Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond But is there anything Beyond? This life cannot be All, they swear, For how unpleasant, if it were! One may not doubt that, somehow, Good Shall come of Water and of Mud And, sure, the reverent eye must see A Purpose in Liquidity.
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Store up reservoirs of calm and content and draw on them at later moments when the source isn't there, but the need is very great.
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But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
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These laid the world away poured out the red Sweet wine of youth gave up the years to be Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene, That men call age and those who would have been, Their sons, they gave, their immortality.
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All the little emptiness of love!
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Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.
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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
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In your arms was still delight, Quiet as a street at night And thoughts of you, I do remember, Were green leaves in a darkened chamber, Were dark clouds in a moonless sky.
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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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And I shall find some girl perhaps, and a better one than you, With eyes as wise, but kindlier, and lips as soft, but true, and I dare say she will do.
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It's all a terrible tragedy. And yet, in it's details, it's great fun. And - apart from the tragedy - I've never felt happier or better in my life than in those days in Belgium.
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Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping.
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Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet Death as a friend!
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Spend in pure converse our eternal day Think each in each, immediately wise Learn all we lacked before hear, know, and say What this tumultuous body now denies And feel, who have laid our groping hands away And see, no longer blinded by our eyes.
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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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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.
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I shall desire and I shall find The best of my desires The autumn road, the mellow wind That soothes the darkening shires. And laughter, and inn-fires.
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Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
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But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known, And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own.
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