Rupert Brooke

(1887-1915 / Warwickshire / England)

Peace - Poem by Rupert Brooke

Now, God be thanked Who has watched 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,
Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary,
Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move,
And half-men, and their dirty songs and dreary,
And all the little emptiness of love!

Oh! we, who have known shame, we have found release there,
Where there's no ill, no grief, but sleep has mending,
Naught broken save this body, lost but breath;
Nothing to shake the laughing heart's long peace there
But only agony, and that has ending;
And the worst friend and enemy is but Death.


Comments about Peace by Rupert Brooke

  • (1/24/2015 12:19:00 AM)


    Rubert Brooke's the great poem and ideas.likes very much. (Report) Reply

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  • (1/24/2015 12:16:00 AM)


    Great ideas makes the poem so beautiful and likes very much. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: sick, grief, power, peace, friend, sleep, lost, death, god, world, heart, song, thanks



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

Poem Edited: Wednesday, March 30, 2011


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