A Letter to a Live Poet (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Sir, since the last Elizabethan died, Or, rather, that more Paradisal muse, Blind with much light, passed to the light ...
Sir, since the last Elizabethan died, Or, rather, that more Paradisal muse, Blind with much light, passed to the light ...
I burned my life, that I may find A passion wholly of the mind, Thought divorced from eye and bone ...
It is yourself you seek In a long rage, Scanning through light and darkness Mirrors, the page, Where should reflected ...
Eternally the choking steam goes up From the black pools of seething oil. . . . How merry Those little ...
"Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never ...
There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story ...
There's a palace in Florence, the world knows well, And a statue watches it from the square, And this story ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
This is the house. On one side there is darkness, On one side there is light. Into the darkness you ...
WHAT thing shall be held up to woman's beauty? Where are the bounds of it? Yea, what is all The ...
How could I love you more? I would give up Even that beauty I have loved too well That I ...
Weary of myself, and sick of asking What I am, and what I ought to be, At this vessel's prow ...
The cypress stood up like a church That night we felt our love would hold, And saintly moonlight seemed to ...
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