Fragments

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) In that fair capital where Pleasure, crowned Amidst her myriad courtiers, riots and rules, I too have been a suitor. Radiant eyes Were my life’s warmth and sunshine, outspread arms My gilded deep horizons. I rejoiced In yielding to all amorous influence And multiple impulsion of the flesh, To […]

Eudaemon

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) O happiness, I know not what far seas, Blue hills and deep, thy sunny realms surround, That thus in Music’s wistful harmonies And concert of sweet sound A rumor steals, from some uncertain shore, Of lovely things outworn or gladness yet in store: Whether thy beams be pitiful […]

El Extraviado

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) Over the radiant ridges borne out on the offshore wind, I have sailed as a butterfly sails whose priming wings unfurled Leave the familiar gardens and visited fields behind To follow a cloud in the east rose-flushed on the rim of the world. I have strayed from the […]

Do You Remember Once

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) Do you remember once, in Paris of glad faces, The night we wandered off under the third moon’s rays And, leaving far behind bright streets and busy places, Stood where the Seine flowed down between its quiet quais? The city’s voice was hushed; the placid, lustrous waters Mirrored […]

Coucy

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) The rooks aclamor when one enters here Startle the empty towers far overhead; Through gaping walls the summer fields appear, Green, tan, or, poppy-mingled, tinged with red. The courts where revel rang deep grass and moss Cover, and tangled vines have overgrown The gate where banners blazoned with a […]

Champagne 1914 15

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) In the glad revels, in the happy fetes, When cheeks are flushed, and glasses gilt and pearled With the sweet wine of France that concentrates The sunshine and the beauty of the world, Drink sometimes, you whose footsteps yet may tread The undisturbed, delightful paths of Earth, To […]

Broceliande

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) Broceliande! in the perilous beauty of silence and menacing shade, Thou art set on the shores of the sea down the haze of horizons untravelled, unscanned. Untroubled, untouched with the woes of this world are the moon-marshalled hosts that invade Broceliande. Only at dusk, when lavender clouds in […]

Bellinglise

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) Deep in the sloping forest that surrounds The head of a green valley that I know, Spread the fair gardens and ancestral grounds Of Bellinglise, the beautiful chateau. Through shady groves and fields of unmown grass, It was my joy to come at dusk and see, Filling a little […]

At The Tomb Of Napoleon

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) I stood beside his sepulchre whose fame, Hurled over Europe once on bolt and blast, Now glows far off as storm-clouds overpast Glow in the sunset flushed with glorious flame. Has Nature marred his mould? Can Art acclaim No hero now, no man with whom men side As with […]

Ariosto Orlando Furioso Canto X 91 99

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) Ruggiero, to amaze the British host, And wake more wonder in their wondering ranks, The bridle of his winged courser loosed, And clapped his spurs into the creature’s flanks; High in the air, even to the topmost banks Of crudded cloud, uprose the flying horse, And now above the […]

Antinous

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) Stretched on a sunny bank he lay at rest, Ferns at his elbow, lilies round his knees, With sweet flesh patterned where the cool turf pressed, Flowerlike crept o’er with emerald aphides. Single he couched there, to his circling flocks Piping at times some happy shepherd’s tune, Nude, with […]

An Ode To Antares

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) At dusk, when lowlands where dark waters glide Robe in gray mist, and through the greening hills The hoot-owl calls his mate, and whippoorwills Clamor from every copse and orchard-side, I watched the red star rising in the East, And while his fellows of the flaming sign From prisoning […]

All Thats Not Love

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) All that’s not love is the dearth of my days, The leaves of the volume with rubric unwrit, The temple in times without prayer, without praise, The altar unset and the candle unlit. Let me survive not the lovable sway Of early desire, nor see when it goes […]

After An Epigram Of Clement Marot

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) The lad I was I longer now Nor am nor shall be evermore. Spring’s lovely blossoms from my brow Have shed their petals on the floor. Thou, Love, hast been my lord, thy shrine Above all gods’ best served by me. Dear Love, could life again be mine How […]

A Message To America

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916) You have the grit and the guts, I know; You are ready to answer blow for blow You are virile, combative, stubborn, hard, But your honor ends with your own back-yard; Each man intent on his private goal, You have no feeling for the whole; What singly none would […]

Hauntings by Rupert Brooke

In the grey tumult of these after years Oft silence falls; the incessant wranglers part; And less-than-echoes of remembered tears Hush all the loud confusion of the heart; And a shade, through the toss’d ranks of mirth and crying Hungers, and pains, and each dull passionate mood, — Quite lost, and all but all forgot, […]

Goddess In The Wood, The by Rupert Brooke

In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood, Amazed with sorrow. Down the morning one Far golden horn in the gold of trees and sun Rang out; and held; and died. . . . She thought the wood Grew quieter. Wing, and leaf, and pool of light Forgot to dance. Dumb lay the unfalling stream; […]

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. […]