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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

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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
Wind
Darkening
Shall
Inns
Fire
Mellow
Desire
Fires
Best
Autumn
Find
Desires
Laughter
Shire
Road
Soothes

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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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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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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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Breathless, we flung us on a windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.
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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 in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish
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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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Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond But is there anything Beyond?
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Incredibly, inordinately, devastatingly, immortally, calamitously, hearteningly, adorably beautiful.
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Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet Death as a friend!
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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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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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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
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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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Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
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A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.
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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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