| Rupert Brooke (1887–1915). Collected Poems. 1916. | | | | VI. Other Poems | | 1. The Busy Heart | | | | NOW that we’ve done our best and worst, and parted, | | | I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend. | | | (O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted) | | | I’ll think of Love in books, Love without end; | | | Women with child, content; and old men sleeping; | 5 | | And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain; | | | And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping; | | | And the young heavens, forgetful after rain; | | | And evening hush, broken by homing wings; | | | And Song’s nobility, and Wisdom holy, | 10 | | That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things, | | | Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly, | | | One after one, like tasting a sweet food. | | | I have need to busy my heart with quietude. | |
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