Rupert Brooke

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.

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.

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

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

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
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If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

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?