Rupert
Brooke .
And
blood
lies
quiet , for
all
you
'
re
near
;
And
it's
but
spoken
words we hear
,
Where trumpets
sang
;
when
the mere
skies
Are
stranger
and nobler
than your
eyes
;
And
flesh
is
flesh
,
was
flame before
;
And
infinite
hungers leap
no more
In
the
chance
swaying
of
your
dress
;
And
love has
changed
to
kindliness
.
THE
OLD
VICARAGE
,
GRANTCHESTER
.
Café
des Westens
,
Berlin
,
May
,
1912
.
JUST
now
the
lilac
is
in
bloom
,
J
All
before my
little
room
;
And
in
my
flower
-
beds
,
I
think
,
Smile the carnation
and
the
pink
;
And
down
the borders
,
well
I
know
,
The
poppy
and
the
pansy
blow
...
Oh
!
there
the chestnuts
,
summer
through
,
Beside the river make for
you
A
tunnel
of
green
gloom
,
and
sleep
Deeply
above
;
and
green
and
deep
The
stream
mysterious
glides
beneath
,
Green
as
a
dream
and
deep
as
death
.
-
Oh
,
damn
!
I
know
it!
And
I
know
How
the
May
fields
all
golden
show
,