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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.

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
Days
War
Belgium
Felt
Happier
Better
Apart
Great
Details
Never
Tragedy
Life
Terrible
Fun

More quotes by Rupert Brooke

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Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow
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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
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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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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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But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
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A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.
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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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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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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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The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble and the rough male kiss of blankets.
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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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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
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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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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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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!
Rupert Brooke
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.. . . would I were In Grantchester, in Grantchester!
Rupert Brooke
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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.
Rupert Brooke
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Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress and love has changed to kindliness.
Rupert Brooke