Mutability

Rupert Brooke

They say there’s a high windless world and strange,
 Out of the wash of days and temporal tide,
 Where Faith and Good, Wisdom and Truth abide,
‘Aeterna corpora’, subject to no change.
There the sure suns of these pale shadows move;
 There stand the immortal ensigns of our war;
 Our melting flesh fixed Beauty there, a star,
And perishing hearts, imperishable Love. . . .

Dear, we know only that we sigh, kiss, smile;
 Each kiss lasts but the kissing; and grief goes over;
 Love has no habitation but the heart.
Poor straws! on the dark flood we catch awhile,
 Cling, and are borne into the night apart.
 The laugh dies with the lips, ‘Love’ with the lover.

Next 10 Poems

• Rupert Brooke : Night Journey, The
• Rupert Brooke : Now, God Be Thanked Who Has Matched Us With His Hour
• Rupert Brooke : Oh! Death Will Find Me, Long Before I Tire
• Rupert Brooke : Old Vicarage, The - Grantchester
• Rupert Brooke : On The Death Of Smet-smet, The Hippopotamus- Goddess
• Rupert Brooke : One Before The Last, The
• Rupert Brooke : One Day
• Rupert Brooke : Paralysis
• Rupert Brooke : Peace
• Rupert Brooke : Pine-trees And The Sky: Evening

Previous 10 Poems

• Rupert Brooke : Mummia
• Rupert Brooke : Menelaus And Helen
• Rupert Brooke : Mary And Gabriel
• Rupert Brooke : Love
• Rupert Brooke : Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia
• Rupert Brooke : Life Beyond, The
• Rupert Brooke : Libido
• Rupert Brooke : Kindliness
• Rupert Brooke : Jolly Company, The
• Rupert Brooke : Jealousy