Quote

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.

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
Still
Quiet
Darkened
Life
Streets
Chamber
Thoughts
Leaves
Arms
Clouds
Dark
Delight
Night
Sky
Stills
Street
Remember
Green
Moonless

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Incredibly, inordinately, devastatingly, immortally, calamitously, hearteningly, adorably beautiful.
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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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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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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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Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.
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All the little emptiness of love!
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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
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The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules.
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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
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Hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
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I have been so great a lover: filled my days So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise, The pain, the calm, and the astonishment, Desire illimitable, and silent content, And all dear names men use, to cheat despair, For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear Our hearts at random down the dark of life.
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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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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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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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Oh! death will find me, long before I tire Of watching for you and swing me suddenly Into the shade and loneliness and mire Of the last land!
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