Iv. The Dead
Rupert Brooke
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone; Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended. There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after, Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance, A width, a shining peace, under the night.
Next 10 Poems
- Rupert Brooke : Jealousy
- Rupert Brooke : Jolly Company, The
- Rupert Brooke : Kindliness
- Rupert Brooke : Libido
- Rupert Brooke : Life Beyond, The
- Rupert Brooke : Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia
- Rupert Brooke : Love
- Rupert Brooke : Mary And Gabriel
- Rupert Brooke : Menelaus And Helen
- Rupert Brooke : Mummia
Previous 10 Poems
- Rupert Brooke : It's Not Going To Happen Again
- Rupert Brooke : In Time Of Revolt
- Rupert Brooke : In Examination
- Rupert Brooke : Iii. The Dead
- Rupert Brooke : Ii. Safety
- Rupert Brooke : I. Peace
- Rupert Brooke : I Said I Splendidly Loved You; It's Not True
- Rupert Brooke : Home
- Rupert Brooke : Hill, The
- Rupert Brooke : Heaven