The theme for this month's WW1 poetry
is
Rupert Brooke
1887 - 1915
(ii) Safety
Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
He who has found
our hid security,
Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest,
And heard our word,
'Who is so safe as we?'
We have found safety with all things undying,
The winds, and
morning, tears of men and mirth,
The deep night, and birds singing, and clouds flying,
And sleep, and
freedom, and the autumnal earth.
We have built a house that is not for Time's throwing.
We have gained a
peace unshaken by pain for ever.
War knows no power. Safe shall be my going,
Secretly armed
against all death's endeavour;
Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall;
And if these poor limbs die, safest of all.
Rupert Brooke wrote this series of poems entitled The Sonnets in the autumn of 1914 following the outbreak of the First World War.
He died from an infected mosquito bite in April 1915 on a French hospital ship on his way to Gallipoli and is buried in an olive grove on Skyros in Greece.
~***~
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