Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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37. Nineteen-Fourteen |
| II. Safety |
| By Rupert Brooke |
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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. | 5 |
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 Times throwing. | |
We have gained a peace unshaken by pain for ever. | 10 |
War knows no power. Safe shall be my going, | |
Secretly armed against all deaths endeavor; | |
Safe though all safetys lost; safe where men fall; | |
And if these poor limbs die, safest of all. | |
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