| Rupert Brooke (1887–1915). Collected Poems. 1916. |
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| VI. Other Poems |
| 2. Love |
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| LOVE is a breach in the walls, a broken gate, | |
| Where that comes in that shall not go again; | |
| Love sells the proud heart’s citadel to Fate. | |
| They have known shame, who love unloved. Even then, | |
| When two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking, | 5 |
| And agony’s forgot, and hushed the crying | |
| Of credulous hearts, in heaven—such are but taking | |
| Their own poor dreams within their arms, and lying | |
| Each in his lonely night, each with a ghost. | |
| Some share that night. But they know love grows colder, | 10 |
| Grows false and dull, that was sweet lies at most. | |
| Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder, | |
| But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss. | |
| All this is love; and all love is but this. | |
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