Now, God be thanked Who has matched 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. — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
I have a thousand images of you in an hour; all different and all coming back to the same. I think of you once against a sky line: and on the hill that Sunday morning. The light and the shadow… — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
One may not doubt that, somehow Good Shall come of Water and of Mud; And sure, the reverent eye must see A purpose in… — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
But only agony, and that has ending; And the worst friend and enemy is but Death. — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
“Out of the nothingness of sleep, The slow dreams of Eternity, There was a thunder on the deep: I came, because you called to… — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
“That night, how could I sleep? I lay and watched the lonely gloom; And watched the moonlight creep From wall to basin, round the… — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet Death as a friend! — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
These laid the world away; poured out the red Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be Of work and joy, and… — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
“Failure Because God put His adamantine fate Between my sullen heart and its desire, I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate, Rise… — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
And in that Heaven of all their wish, there shall be no more land, say fish — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
Down the blue night the unending columns press In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
War knows no power. Safe shall be my going, Secretly armed against all death's endeavour; Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall;… — Rupert Brooke Copy Share Image
