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The Little Dog's Day The Little Dog's Day

The Little Dog's Day
All in the town were still asleep, When the sun came up with a shout and a leap. In the lonely streets unseen by man, A little dog danced. And the day began. All his life he'd been good, as far as he could, And the poor little beast had done all that he should. But this morning he swore, by Odin and Thor And the Canine Valhalla--he'd stand it no more! So his prayer he got granted--to do... Poems - Post by : chizik - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 879

It's Not Going To Happen Again It's Not Going To Happen Again

It's Not Going To Happen Again
I have known the most dear that is granted us here, More supreme than the gods know above, Like a star I was hurled through the sweet of the world, And the height and the light of it, Love. I have risen to the uttermost Heaven of Joy, I have sunk to the sheer Hell of Pain-- But--it's not going to happen again, my boy, It's not going to happen again. It's the very first word that poor Juliet heard... Poems - Post by : olujoe - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1359

Sonnet Reversed Sonnet Reversed

Sonnet Reversed
Hand trembling towards hand; the amazing lights Of heart and eye. They stood on supreme heights. Ah, the delirious weeks of honeymoon! Soon they returned, and after strange adventures, Settled at Balham by the end of June, Their money was in Can. Pacs. B. Debentures, And in Antofagastas. Still he went Cityward daily; still she did abide At home. And both were really quite content With work and social pleasures. Then they died. They left three children... Poems - Post by : louise8 - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 3473

The True Beatitude (bouts-rimes) The True Beatitude (bouts-rimes)

The True Beatitude (bouts-rimes)
They say when the Great Prompter's hand shall ring Down the last curtain upon earth and sea, All the Good Mimes will have eternity To praise their Author, worship love and sing; Or to the walls of Heaven wandering Look down on those damned for a fretful d----, Mock them (all theologians agree On this reward for virtue), laugh, and fling New sulphur on the sin-incarnadined . . . Ah, Love! still temporal, and still atmospheric,... Poems - Post by : ow24160 - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1717

Fragment On Painters Fragment On Painters

Fragment On Painters
There is an evil which that Race attaints Who represent God's World with oily paints, Who mock the Universe, so rare and sweet, With spots of colour on a canvas sheet, Defile the Lovely and insult the Good By scrawling upon little bits of wood. They'd snare the moon, and catch the immortal sun With madder brown and pale vermilion, Entrap an English evening's magic hush . . .(The end)Rupert Brooke's poem: Fragment On Painters... Poems - Post by : Jim_Symonds - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 2859

A Letter To A Live Poet A Letter To A Live Poet

A Letter To A Live Poet
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 once more the spacious voice And serene utterance of old. We heard --With rapturous breath half-held, as a dreamer dreams Who dares not know it dreaming,... Poems - Post by : kim474644 - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1848

Sonnet: In Time Of Revolt Sonnet: In Time Of Revolt

Sonnet: In Time Of Revolt
The Thing must End. I am no boy! I am No BOY! I being twenty-one. Uncle, you make A great mistake, a very great mistake, In chiding me for letting slip a "Damn!" What's more, you called me "Mother's one ewe lamb," Bade me "refrain from swearing--for her sake-- Till I'm grown up" . . . --By God! I think you take Too much upon you, Uncle William! You say I am your brother's only son. I know it.... Poems - Post by : sagitarius - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1781

Sometimes Even Now . . Sometimes Even Now . .

Sometimes Even Now . .
Sometimes even now I may Steal a prisoner's holiday, Slip, when all is worst, the bands, Hurry back, and duck beneath Time's old tyrannous groping hands, Speed away with laughing breath Back to all I'll never know, Back to you, a year ago. Truant there from Time and Pain, What I had, I find again: Sunlight in the boughs above, Sunlight in your hair and dress, The hands too proud for... Poems - Post by : jaideep26 - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 2135

Song (the Way Of Love Was Thus) Song (the Way Of Love Was Thus)

Song (the Way Of Love Was Thus)
The way of love was thus. He was born one winter morn With hands delicious, And it was well with us. Love came our quiet way, Lit pride in us, and died in us, All in a winter's day. There is no more to say. 1913 (?).(The end)Rupert Brooke's poem: Song (The Way Of Love Was Thus)... Poems - Post by : ursfehr32 - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1355

The Dance (a Song) The Dance (a Song)

The Dance (a Song)
A Song As the Wind, and as the Wind, In a corner of the way, Goes stepping, stands twirling, Invisibly, comes whirling, Bows before, and skips behind, In a grave, an endless play-- So my Heart, and so my Heart, Following where your feet have gone, Stirs dust of old dreams there; He turns a toe; he gleams there, Treading you a dance apart. But... Poems - Post by : stevelundborg - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1364

Fafaia Fafaia

Fafaia
Stars that seem so close and bright, Watched by lovers through the night, Swim in emptiness, men say, Many a mile and year away. And yonder star that burns so white, May have died to dust and night Ten, maybe, or fifteen year, Before it shines upon my dear. Oh! often among men below, Heart cries out to heart, I know, And one is dust a many years, Child, before the other hears. Heart from heart is... Poems - Post by : billcarey - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 2269

The Old Vicarage, Grantchester The Old Vicarage, Grantchester

The Old Vicarage, Grantchester
(Cafe des Westens, Berlin, May 1912)  Just now the lilac is in bloom, All before my little room; And in my flower-beds, I think, Smile the carnation and the pink; And down the borders, well I know, The poppy and the pansy blow . . . Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through, Beside the river make for you A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep Deeply above; and green and deep The stream mysterious glides beneath, Green... Poems - Post by : Julia - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 863

The Funeral Of Youth: Threnody The Funeral Of Youth: Threnody

The Funeral Of Youth: Threnody
The day that YOUTH had died, There came to his grave-side, In decent mourning, from the country's ends, Those scatter'd friends Who had lived the boon companions of his prime, And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted, In feast and wine and many-crown'd carouse, The days and nights and dawnings of the time When YOUTH kept open house, Nor left untasted Aught of his high emprise and ventures dear, No quest of his unshar'd --... Poems - Post by : jon_poland - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1665

Mary And Gabriel Mary And Gabriel

Mary And Gabriel
Young Mary, loitering once her garden way, Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day, As wine that blushes water through. And soon, Out of the gold air of the afternoon, One knelt before her: hair he had, or fire, Bound back above his ears with golden wire, Baring the eager marble of his face. Not man's nor woman's was the immortal grace Rounding the limbs beneath that robe of white, And lighting the proud eyes with changeless light,... Poems - Post by : aarolove - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 618

The Way That Lovers Use The Way That Lovers Use

The Way That Lovers Use
The way that lovers use is this; They bow, catch hands, with never a word, And their lips meet, and they do kiss, -- So I have heard. They queerly find some healing so, And strange attainment in the touch; There is a secret lovers know, -- I have read as much. And theirs no longer joy nor smart, Changing or ending, night or day; But mouth to mouth, and heart on heart,... Poems - Post by : tedcash - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1490

Beauty And Beauty Beauty And Beauty

Beauty And Beauty
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, folding glints of light, And shreds of shadowy laughter; Not the... Poems - Post by : gm1234 - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 2601

Song (all Suddenly The Wind Comes Soft) Song (all Suddenly The Wind Comes Soft)

Song (all Suddenly The Wind Comes Soft)
All suddenly the wind comes soft, And Spring is here again; And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green, And my heart with buds of pain. My heart all Winter lay so numb, The earth so dead and frore, That I never thought the Spring would come, Or my heart wake any more. But Winter's broken and earth has woken, And the small birds cry again; And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,... Poems - Post by : shabira61 - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 2148

The Night Journey The Night Journey

The Night Journey
Hands and lit faces eddy to a line; The dazed last minutes click; the clamour dies. Beyond the great-swung arc o' the roof, divine, Night, smoky-scarv'd, with thousand coloured eyes Glares the imperious mystery of the way. Thirsty for dark, you feel the long-limbed train Throb, stretch, thrill motion, slide, pull out and sway, Strain for the far, pause, draw to strength again. . . . As a man, caught by some great hour, will rise, Slow-limbed, to... Poems - Post by : bert10 - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1228

The Chilterns The Chilterns

The Chilterns
Your hands, my dear, adorable, Your lips of tenderness -- Oh, I've loved you faithfully and well, Three years, or a bit less. It wasn't a success. Thank God, that's done! and I'll take the road, Quit of my youth and you, The Roman road to Wendover By Tring and Lilley Hoo, As a free man may do. For youth goes over, the joys that fly, The tears that follow fast;... Poems - Post by : millenni - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1609

Unfortunate Unfortunate

Unfortunate
Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind; Saying, "She is most wise, patient and kind. Between the small hands folded in her lap Surely a shamed head may bow down at length, And find forgiveness where the shadows stir About her lips, and wisdom in her strength, Peace in her peace. Come to her, come to her!" . . . She will not care. She'll smile to see me come,... Poems - Post by : pauli - Date : July 2011 - Author : Rupert Brooke - Read : 1028