Failure Poem by Rupert Brooke


Rating: 3.2

Because God put His adamantine fate
Between my sullen heart and its desire,
I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate,
Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire.
Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy,
But Love was as a flame about my feet;
Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; and beat
Thrice on the Gate, and entered with a cry --

All the great courts were quiet in the sun,
And full of vacant echoes: moss had grown
Over the glassy pavement, and begun
To creep within the dusty council-halls.
An idle wind blew round an empty throne
And stirred the heavy curtains on the walls.

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Chinedu Dike 18 March 2022

Nicely crafted in verse with rhythmic splendour. A beautiful work of art...

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Sylvia Frances Chan 17 March 2022

Congratulations being chosen as The Classic Poem Of The Day. A very touching poem, but the reader must think through and through

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Sylvia Frances Chan 17 March 2022

A remarkable poem by a very young English poet, who died while he was on duty during war-time, only 27 years old! 5 Stars full score. So very sad having thought about him, the young English poet

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Roxxy Sweets 15 April 2014

Is this a questioning of God? Interesting.... :)

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Rupert Brooke

Warwickshire / England
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