Rupert Brooke

Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;
But is there anything Beyond?

Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;
But is there anything Beyond?

Yet, behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar,
Some white tremendous daybreak.

Yet, behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar,
Some white tremendous daybreak.

A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.

A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years.

Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
There's none of these so lonely and poor of old,
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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.
These laid the world away: poured out the red
Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be
Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene
That men call age, and those who would have been
Their sons, they gave their immortality.

One may not doubt that, somehow Good
Shall come of Water and of Mud;
And sure, the read more

One may not doubt that, somehow Good
Shall come of Water and of Mud;
And sure, the reverent eye must see
A purpose in Liquidity.