Rupert Brooke

(1887-1915 / Warwickshire / England)

Rupert Brooke Poems

81. The Old Vicarage, Grantchester 1/1/2004
82. Dining-Room Tea 1/3/2003
83. Pine-Trees And The Sky: Evening 1/3/2003
84. Dawn 5/10/2001
85. Jealousy 12/31/2002
86. Love 12/31/2002
87. Seaside 12/31/2002
88. Old Vicarage, The - Grantchester 12/31/2002
89. Fish, The 12/31/2002
90. Desertion 12/31/2002
91. Choriambics Ii 1/3/2003
92. Chilterns, The 12/31/2002
93. Safety 1/1/2004
94. Peace 1/1/2004
95. The Little Dog's Day 1/13/2003
96. Heaven 12/31/2002
97. Day And Night 5/10/2001
98. Charm, The 12/31/2002
99. Day That I Have Loved 12/31/2002
100. The Treasure 1/3/2003
101. Great Lover, The 12/31/2002
102. Clouds 5/10/2001
103. Blue Evening 5/10/2001
104. Busy Heart, The 12/31/2002
105. Ante Aram 5/10/2001
106. Dead Men's Love 12/31/2002
107. Beginning, The 12/31/2002
108. 1914 Ii: Safety 1/3/2003
109. Call, The 12/31/2002
110. And Love Has Changed To Kindliness 12/31/2002
111. 1914 Iii: The Dead 1/3/2003
112. A Letter To A Live Poet 5/10/2001
113. A Channel Passage 5/10/2001
114. A Memory (From A Sonnet- Sequence) 5/10/2001
115. Beauty And Beauty 5/10/2001
116. 1914 Iv: The Dead 1/3/2003
117. 1914 I: Peace 1/3/2003
118. 1914 V: The Soldier 1/3/2003

Comments about Rupert Brooke

  • Ian Fraser (10/19/2009 2:47:00 PM)

    Rupert Brooke's poetry gained an undeserved reputation after WWI for jingoism and a simplistic view of war. However, reading this and other poems it is clear that Brooke never glorified war as Tennyson had for, example, in the celebrated Charge of the Light Brigade, merely the heroism of those who fought in it. This poem is a simple elegy of loss and, notwithstanding the more famous, The Soldier, perhaps the best he wrote.

    30 person liked.
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  • Paul Henry Dallaire Paul Henry Dallaire (10/19/2009 9:24:00 AM)

    1914 the dead
    A great poem & an astounding memorian for the dead soldiers.

    33 person liked.
    56 person did not like.
Best Poem of Rupert Brooke

1914 I: Peace

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; ...

Read the full of 1914 I: Peace

The Treasure

When colour goes home into the eyes,
And lights that shine are shut again
With dancing girls and sweet birds’ cries
Behind the gateways of the brain;
And that no-place which gave them birth, shall close
The rainbow and the rose:—

Still may Time hold some golden space
Where I’ll unpack that scented store

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