| Rupert Brooke (18871915). Collected Poems. 1916. |
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| II. 19081911 |
| 15. Dead Mens Love |
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| THERE was a damned successful Poet; | |
| There was a Woman like the Sun. | |
| And they were dead. They did not know it. | |
| They did not know their time was done. | |
| They did not know his hymns | 5 |
| Were silence; and her limbs, | |
| That had served Love so well, | |
| Dust, and a filthy smell. | |
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| And so one day, as ever of old, | |
| Hands out, they hurried, knee to knee; | 10 |
| On fire to cling and kiss and hold | |
| And, in the others eyes, to see | |
| Each his own tiny face, | |
| And in that long embrace | |
| Feel lip and breast grow warm | 15 |
| To breast and lip and arm. | |
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| So knee to knee they sped again, | |
| And laugh to laugh they ran, Im told, | |
| Across the streets of Hell
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| And then | 20 |
| They suddenly felt the wind blow cold, | |
| And knew, so closely pressed, | |
| Chill air on lip and breast, | |
| And, with a sick surprise, | |
| The emptiness of eyes. | 25 |
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