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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.

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
Fields
Navy
Dies
Corner
Ever
Classic
Think
Corners
Thinking
Foreign
Field
Army
England

More quotes by Rupert Brooke

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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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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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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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All the little emptiness of love!
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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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But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
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Mud unto mud!--Death eddies near-- Not here the appointed End, not here! But somewhere, beyond Space and Time, Is wetter water, slimier slime!
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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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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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Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.
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Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet Death as a friend!
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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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Hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
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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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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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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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The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules.
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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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