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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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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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Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress and love has changed to kindliness.
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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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Youth is stranger than fiction.
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Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
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Hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
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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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Incredibly, inordinately, devastatingly, immortally, calamitously, hearteningly, adorably beautiful.
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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
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But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
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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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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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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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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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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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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
Rupert Brooke
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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
Rupert Brooke
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And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish
Rupert Brooke
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The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble and the rough male kiss of blankets.
Rupert Brooke
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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.
Rupert Brooke