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The worst of slaves is he whom passion rules.

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
Passion
Slaves
Slave
Rules
Worst

More quotes by Rupert Brooke

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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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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.
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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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Infinite hungers leap no more I in the chance swaying of your dress and love has changed to kindliness.
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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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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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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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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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The cool kindliness of sheets, that soon smooth away trouble and the rough male kiss of blankets.
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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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I have need to busy my heart with quietude.
Rupert Brooke
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.. . . would I were In Grantchester, in Grantchester!
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Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond But is there anything Beyond?
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But only agony, and that has ending And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
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Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow
Rupert Brooke
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Just now the lilac is in bloom All before my little room.
Rupert Brooke
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Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.
Rupert Brooke
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Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate, Love sells the proud heart's citadel to fate.
Rupert Brooke
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And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish
Rupert Brooke