| Rupert Brooke (1887–1915). Collected Poems. 1916. |
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| V. The South Seas |
| 12. Sonnet |
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(Suggested by some of the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research)
NOT with vain tears, when we’re beyond the sun, | |
| We’ll beat on the substantial doors, nor tread | |
| Those dusty high-roads of the aimless dead | |
| Plaintive for Earth; but rather turn and run | |
| Down some close-covered by-way of the air, | 5 |
| Some low sweet alley between wind and wind, | |
| Stoop under faint gleams, thread the shadows, find | |
| Some whispering ghost-forgotten nook, and there | |
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| Spend in pure converse our eternal day; | |
| Think each in each, immediately wise; | 10 |
| Learn all we lacked before; hear, know, and say | |
| What this tumultuous body now denies; | |
| And feel, who have laid our groping hands away; | |
| And see, no longer blinded by our eyes. | |
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