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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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Rupert Brooke
Age: 28 †
Born: 1887
Born: January 1
Died: 1915
Died: January 1
Poet
Rugby
Warwickshire
Rupert Chawner Brooke
Rupert Chaucer Brooke
Find
Shade
Long
Loneliness
Suddenly
Watching
Land
Mire
Lasts
Swing
Last
Tire
Death
Swings

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The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules.
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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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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
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Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond But is there anything Beyond?
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There's little comfort in the wise
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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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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear, Each secret fishy hope or fear. Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond But is there anything Beyond? This life cannot be All, they swear, For how unpleasant, if it were! One may not doubt that, somehow, Good Shall come of Water and of Mud And, sure, the reverent eye must see A Purpose in Liquidity.
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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.
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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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Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
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All the little emptiness of love!
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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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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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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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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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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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