| Rupert Brooke (1887–1915). Collected Poems. 1916. |
| |
| VI. Other Poems |
| 1. The Busy Heart |
| |
| NOW that we’ve done our best and worst, and parted, | |
| I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend. | |
| (O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted) | |
| I’ll think of Love in books, Love without end; | |
| Women with child, content; and old men sleeping; | 5 |
| And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain; | |
| And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping; | |
| And the young heavens, forgetful after rain; | |
| And evening hush, broken by homing wings; | |
| And Song’s nobility, and Wisdom holy, | 10 |
| That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things, | |
| Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly, | |
| One after one, like tasting a sweet food. | |
| I have need to busy my heart with quietude. | |
|
|
