Rupert Brooke
Rupert Brooke
Rupert Chawner Brookewas an English poet known for his idealistic war sonnets written during the First World War, especially "The Soldier". He was also known for his boyish good looks, which were said to have prompted the Irish poet W. B. Yeats to describe him as "the handsomest young man in England"...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth3 August 1887
good-friend good-friendship conversation
I know what things are good: friendship and work and conversation. These I shall have.
life pain heart
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.
death long admiration
Oh! death will find me long before I tire of watching you.
lonely memorial-day military
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.
death men wind
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.
wisdom needs calm
Store up reservoirs of calm and content and draw on them at later moments when the source isn't there, but the need is very great.
army thinking navy
If I should die, think only this of me: that there's some corner of a foreign field that is for ever England.
beautiful teenage
Incredibly, inordinately, devastatingly, immortally, calamitously, hearteningly, adorably beautiful.
broken-heart heartbreak heartbroken
I thought when love for you died, I should die. It's dead. Alone, most strangely, I live on.
death agony enemy
But only agony, and that has ending; And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.
war fall men
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.
heart heaven
Hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
love littles emptiness
All the little emptiness of love!
wise grief moon
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.