Rupert Brooke Quotes

36 Sourced Quotes

Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen Unpassioned beauty of a great machine; The benison of hot water; furs to touch; The good smell of old clothes.

Rupert Brooke
Stands the Church clock at ten to three?
And is there honey still for tea?

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, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

Rupert Brooke
Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire
Of watching you; and swing me suddenly
Into the shade and loneliness and mire
Of the last land! There, waiting patiently,
One day, I think, I'll feel a cool wind blowing,
See a slow light across the Stygian tide,
And hear the Dead about me stir, unknowing,
And tremble. And I shall know that you have died,
And watch you, a broad-browed and smiling dream,
Pass, light as ever, through the lightless host,
Quietly ponder, start, and sway, and gleam—
Most individual and bewildering ghost!—
And turn, and toss your brown delightful head
Amusedly, among the ancient Dead.

Rupert Brooke
Yet, behind the night, Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar, Some white tremendous daybreak.

Rupert Brooke
Unkempt about those hedges blows
An English unofficial rose.

Rupert Brooke
And I shall find some girl perhaps, and a better one than you, With eyes as wise, but kindlier, and lips as soft, but true, and I dare say she will do.

Rupert Brooke
God! I will pack, and take a train,
And get me to England once again!
For England's the one land, I know,
Where men with Splendid Hearts may go.

Rupert Brooke
Down the blue night the unending columns press
In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow

Rupert Brooke
Canada is a live country - live, but not, like the States, kicking.

Rupert Brooke
They say that the Dead die not, but remain Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth. I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these, In wise majestic melancholy train, And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas, And men, coming and going on the earth.

Rupert Brooke
Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate, Love sells the proud heart's citadel to fate.

Rupert Brooke
I shall desire and I shall find
The best of my desires;
The autumn road, the mellow wind
That soothes the darkening shires.
And laughter, and inn-fires.

Rupert Brooke
But only agony, and that has ending;
And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.

Rupert Brooke
Spend in pure converse our eternal day;
Think each in each, immediately wise;
Learn all we lacked before; hear, know, and say
What this tumultuous body now denies;
And feel, who have laid our groping hands away;
And see, no longer blinded by our eyes.

Rupert Brooke
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;
And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.

Rupert Brooke
But the best I've known
Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown
About the winds of the world, and fades from brains
Of living men, and dies.

Rupert Brooke
Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet Death as a friend!

Rupert Brooke
I have been so great a lover: filled my days So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise, The pain, the calm, and the astonishment, Desire illimitable, and silent content, And all dear names men use, to cheat despair, For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear Our hearts at random down the dark of life.

Rupert Brooke
I thought when love for you died, I should die.
It's dead. Alone, most strangely, I live on.

Rupert Brooke
Just now the lilac is in bloom,
All before my little room.

Rupert Brooke
And in my flower-beds, I think,
Smile the carnation and the pink.

Rupert Brooke
But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known, And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own.

Rupert Brooke
Breathless, we flung us on the windy hill,
Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass.

Rupert Brooke
Curates, long dust, will come and go
On lissom, clerical, printless toe;
And oft between the boughs is seen
The sly shade of a Rural Dean.

Rupert Brooke