| Rupert Brooke (1887–1915). Collected Poems. 1916. |
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| II. 1908–1911 |
| 1. Sonnet: Oh! Death Will Find Me, Long Before I Tire |
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| OH! Death will find me, long before I tire | |
| Of watching you; and swing me suddenly | |
| Into the shade and loneliness and mire | |
| Of the last land! There, waiting patiently, | |
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| One day, I think, I’ll feel a cool wind blowing, | 5 |
| See a slow light across the Stygian tide, | |
| And hear the Dead about me stir, unknowing, | |
| And tremble. And Ishall know that you have died, | |
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| And watch you, a broad-browed and smiling dream, | |
| Pass, light as ever, through the lightless host, | 10 |
| Quietly ponder, start, and sway, and gleam— | |
| Most individual and bewildering ghost!— | |
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| And turn, and toss your brown delightful head | |
| Amusedly, among the ancient Dead. | |
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