Flight by Rupert Brooke

Voices out of the shade that cried, And long noon in the hot calm places, And children’s play by the wayside, And country eyes, and quiet faces — All these were round my steady paces. Those that I could have loved went by me; Cool gardened homes slept in the sun; I heard the whisper […]

Finding by Rupert Brooke

From the candles and dumb shadows, And the house where love had died, I stole to the vast moonlight And the whispering life outside. But I found no lips of comfort, No home in the moon’s light (I, little and lone and frightened In the unfriendly night), And no meaning in the voices. . . […]

Failure by Rupert Brooke

Because God put His adamantine fate Between my sullen heart and its desire, I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate, Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire. Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy, But Love was as a flame about my feet; Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; […]

Dust by Rupert Brooke

When the white flame in us is gone, And we that lost the world’s delight Stiffen in darkness, left alone To crumble in our separate night; When your swift hair is quiet in death, And through the lips corruption thrust Has stilled the labour of my breath — When we are dust, when we are […]

Doubts by Rupert Brooke

When she sleeps, her soul, I know, Goes a wanderer on the air, Wings where I may never go, Leaves her lying, still and fair, Waiting, empty, laid aside, Like a dress upon a chair. . . . This I know, and yet I know Doubts that will not be denied. For if the soul […]

Dining-Room Tea by Rupert Brooke

When you were there, and you, and you, Happiness crowned the night; I too, Laughing and looking, one of all, I watched the quivering lamplight fall On plate and flowers and pouring tea And cup and cloth; and they and we Flung all the dancing moments by With jest and glitter. Lip and eye Flashed […]

Desertion by Rupert Brooke

So light we were, so right we were, so fair faith shone, And the way was laid so certainly, that, when I’d gone, What dumb thing looked up at you? Was it something heard, Or a sudden cry, that meekly and without a word You broke the faith, and strangely, weakly, slipped apart. You gave […]

Dead Men’s Love by Rupert Brooke

There was a damned successful Poet; There was a Woman like the Sun. And they were dead. They did not know it. They did not know their time was done. They did not know his hymns Were silence; and her limbs, That had served Love so well, Dust, and a filthy smell. And so one […]

Day That I Have Loved by Rupert Brooke

Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your eyes, And smooth your quiet brow, and fold your thin dead hands. The grey veils of the half-light deepen; colour dies. I bear you, a light burden, to the shrouded sands, Where lies your waiting boat, by wreaths of the sea’s making Mist-garlanded, with all grey […]

Day And Night by Rupert Brooke

Through my heart’s palace Thoughts unnumbered throng; And there, most quiet and, as a child, most wise, High-throned you sit, and gracious. All day long Great Hopes gold-armoured, jester Fantasies, And pilgrim Dreams, and little beggar Sighs, Bow to your benediction, go their way. And the grave jewelled courtier Memories Worship and love and tend […]

Dawn by Rupert Brooke

Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat. Through sullen swirling gloom we jolt and roar. We have been here for ever: even yet A dim watch tells two hours, two aeons, more. The windows are tight-shut and slimy-wet With a night’s foetor. There are two hours more; Two hours to dawn and Milan; two hours […]

Clouds by Rupert Brooke

Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow, Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow Up to the white moon’s hidden loveliness. Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless, And turn with profound gesture vague and slow, As who would pray good for the […]

Choriambics — II by Rupert Brooke

Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void, lost in the haunted wood, I have tended and loved, year upon year, I in the solitude Waiting, quiet and glad-eyed in the dark, knowing that once a gleam Glowed and went through the wood. Still I abode strong in a golden dream, Unrecaptured. For […]

Choriambics — I by Rupert Brooke

Ah! not now, when desire burns, and the wind calls, and the suns of spring Light-foot dance in the woods, whisper of life, woo me to wayfaring; Ah! not now should you come, now when the road beckons, and good friends call, Where are songs to be sung, fights to be fought, yea! and the […]

Charm, The by Rupert Brooke

In darkness the loud sea makes moan; And earth is shaken, and all evils creep About her ways. Oh, now to know you sleep! Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone, Out of the slow grim fight, One thought to wing — to you, asleep, In some cool room that’s open to the night Lying […]

Busy Heart, The by Rupert Brooke

Now that we’ve done our best and worst, and parted, I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend. (O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted) I’ll think of Love in books, Love without end; Women with child, content; and old men sleeping; And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain; And […]

Blue Evening by Rupert Brooke

My restless blood now lies a-quiver, Knowing that always, exquisitely, This April twilight on the river Stirs anguish in the heart of me. For the fast world in that rare glimmer Puts on the witchery of a dream, The straight grey buildings, richly dimmer, The fiery windows, and the stream With willows leaning quietly over, […]

Beauty and Beauty by Rupert Brooke

When Beauty and Beauty meet All naked, fair to fair, The earth is crying-sweet, And scattering-bright the air, Eddying, dizzying, closing round, With soft and drunken laughter; Veiling all that may befall After — after — Where Beauty and Beauty met, Earth’s still a-tremble there, And winds are scented yet, And memory-soft the air, Bosoming, […]

Ante Aram by Rupert Brooke

Before thy shrine I kneel, an unknown worshipper, Chanting strange hymns to thee and sorrowful litanies, Incense of dirges, prayers that are as holy myrrh. Ah, goddess, on thy throne of tears and faint low sighs, Weary at last to theeward come the feet that err, And empty hearts grown tired of the world’s vanities. […]

And love has changed to kindliness by Rupert Brooke

When love has changed to kindliness — Oh, love, our hungry lips, that press So tight that Time’s an old god’s dream Nodding in heaven, and whisper stuff Seven million years were not enough To think on after, make it seem Less than the breath of children playing, A blasphemy scarce worth the saying, A […]

A Memory by Rupert Brooke

(From a sonnet-sequence) Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept Softly along the dim way to your room, And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom, And holiness about you as you slept. I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept About my head, and held it. I had rest Unhoped this side of […]

A Letter to a Live Poet by Rupert Brooke

Sir, since the last Elizabethan died, Or, rather, that more Paradisal muse, Blind with much light, passed to the light more glorious Or deeper blindness, no man’s hand, as thine, Has, on the world’s most noblest chord of song, Struck certain magic strains. Ears satiate With the clamorous, timorous whisperings of to-day, Thrilled to perceive […]

A Channel Passage by Rupert Brooke

The damned ship lurched and slithered. Quiet and quick My cold gorge rose; the long sea rolled; I knew I must think hard of something, or be sick; And could think hard of only one thing — YOU! You, you alone could hold my fancy ever! And with you memories come, sharp pain, and dole. […]

1914 V: The Soldier by Rupert Brooke

If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England’s, […]

1914 IV: The Dead by 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 […]

1914 III: The Dead by Rupert Brooke

Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. 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 […]

1914 II: Safety by Rupert Brooke

Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest He who has found our hid security, Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest, And heard our word, ‘Who is so safe as we?’ We have found safety with all things undying, The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth, The deep […]

1914 I: Peace by Rupert Brooke

Now, God be thanked Who has watched 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, Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary, Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move, […]

The Essay on Liberty by Abraham Cowley

OF LIBERTY The liberty of a people consists in being governed by laws which they have made themselves, under whatsoever form it be of government; the liberty of a private man in being master of his own time and actions, as far as may consist with the laws of God and of his country.  Of this […]

Upon Her Eyes by Robert Herrick

Upon Her Eyes by Robert Herrick Clear are her eyes, Like purest skies; Discovering from thence A baby there That turns each sphere, Like an Intelligence. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster […]

The Hock-cart, or Harvest Home by Robert Herrick

The Hock-cart, or Harvest Home by Robert Herrick To the Right Honourable Mildmay, Earl of Westmoreland Come, sons of summer, by whose toil We are the lords of wine and oil; By whose tough labours, and rough hands, We rip up first, then reap our lands. Crown’d with the ears of corn, now come, And […]

To Youth by Robert Herrick

To Youth by Robert Herrick Drink wine, and live here blitheful while ye may; The morrow’s life too late is; Live to-day. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library […]

SOFT MUSIC by Robert Herrick

SOFT MUSIC by Robert Herrick The mellow touch of music most doth wound The soul, when it doth rather sigh, than sound. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library […]

The Bride-Cake by Robert Herrick

The Bride-Cake by Robert Herrick This day, my Julia, thou must make For Mistress Bride the wedding-cake: Knead but the dough, and it will be To paste of almonds turn’d by thee; Or kiss it thou but once or twice, And for the bride-cake there’ll be spice. ————— The End And that’s the End of […]

The Kiss: A Dialogue by Robert Herrick

The Kiss: A Dialogue by Robert Herrick 1 Among thy fancies, tell me this, What is the thing we call a kiss? 2 I shall resolve ye what it is:– It is a creature born and bred Between the lips, all cherry-red, By love and warm desires fed,– CHOR. And makes more soft the bridal […]

His Poetry His Pillar by Robert Herrick

His Poetry His Pillar by Robert Herrick Only a little more I have to write: Then I’ll give o’er, And bid the world good-night. ‘Tis but a flying minute, That I must stay, Or linger in it: And then I must away. O Time, that cut’st down all, And scarce leav’st here Memorial Of any […]

His Mistress to Him at his Farewell by Robert Herrick

His Mistress to Him at his Farewell by Robert Herrick You may vow I’ll not forget To pay the debt Which to thy memory stands as due As faith can seal it you. –Take then tribute of my tears; So long as I have fears To prompt me, I shall ever Languish and look, but […]

His Loss by Robert Herrick

His Loss by Robert Herrick All has been plunder’d from me but my wit: Fortune herself can lay no claim to it. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the multilingual library […]

His Last Request to Julia by Robert Herrick

His Last Request to Julia by Robert Herrick I have been wanton, and too bold, I fear, To chafe o’er-much the virgin’s cheek or ear;– Beg for my pardon, Julia! he doth win Grace with the gods who’s sorry for his sin. That done, my Julia, dearest Julia, come, And go with me to chuse […]

Delight in Disorder by Robert Herrick

Delight in Disorder by Robert Herrick A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness; A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction; An erring lace, which here and there Enthrals the crimson stomacher; A cuff neglectful, and thereby Ribbons to flow confusedly; A winning wave, deserving note, In the tempestuous […]