Jerome Brooke Poems

Near the centre, near Saint Peters,
Stands the Crystal palace,
In the palace, near the silver fountain,
Sleeps our Queen, all in lace.
...

Dark waves rise, then race at the shore,
Black nights of the soul.
At sea, pale clouds, and mist, hide memory,
Moments of joy, and sorrow.
...

Dancer, spinning in silk, turn to me,
I do burn.
Lady in black, Maid of Fire, burn me,
Come, return.
...

Through the waste marched the warriors,
Silent was the band.
In the swift, hot wind, were seen the men,
Quiet in the sand.
...

Lady, Queen of Night,
Queen of Day,
Always you do hunt,
Searching for prey.
...

Pennants of red, and emerald green, did stream,
Twisting in the dim light.
Shadows fell from the mute, sheer walls,
Hiding all, all from sight.
...

Lost, the city stood near the sandy bar,
Circled by walls of stone.
Towers stabbed at the bright, fleeing stars;
Round the deserted keep, alone.
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Few against many, betrayed by fate,
Our line stood,
Men covered in robes of burning scarlet,
With crimson hood.
...

Warriors in iron mail, still and ready,
Stood in silence.
A banner of blue, dark blue, blew in the wind.
Above the spears.
...

The concubine had dark tresses,
Her skin was soft.
Her robe was of blue; fine silk.
Torn at the side.
...