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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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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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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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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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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A book may be compared to your neighbor: if it be good, it cannot last too long if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.
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Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress and love has changed to kindliness.
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But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
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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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Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet Death as a friend!
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All the little emptiness of love!
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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
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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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Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate, Love sells the proud heart's citadel to fate.
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A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.
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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
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War knows no power. Safe shall be my going, Secretly armed against all death's endeavour Safe though all safety's lost safe where men fall And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.
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Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
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The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble and the rough male kiss of blankets.
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