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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.

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
Quietude
Busy
Need
Needs
Heart

More quotes by 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.
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.. . . would I were In Grantchester, in Grantchester!
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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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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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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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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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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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And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish
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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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Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow
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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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There are only three things in the world, one is to read poetry, another is to write poetry, and the best of all is to live poetry.
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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.
Rupert Brooke
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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.
Rupert Brooke
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All the little emptiness of love!
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Hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
Rupert Brooke
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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.
Rupert Brooke