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.. . . would I were In Grantchester, in Grantchester!

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
Nostalgia
Longing
Would

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And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish
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All the little emptiness of love!
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The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules.
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Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
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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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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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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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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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Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet Death as a friend!
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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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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
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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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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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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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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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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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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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Hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
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