{"id":577,"date":"2010-06-27T19:43:35","date_gmt":"2010-06-27T19:43:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/?p=577"},"modified":"2010-06-27T19:46:41","modified_gmt":"2010-06-27T19:46:41","slug":"day-that-i-have-loved-by-rupert-brooke","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/day-that-i-have-loved-by-rupert-brooke\/","title":{"rendered":"Day That I Have Loved by Rupert Brooke"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/h1>\n

Day That I Have Loved<\/h1>\n

by Rupert Brooke <\/em><\/p>\n

Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your eyes,
\nAnd smooth your quiet brow, and fold your thin dead hands.
\nThe grey veils of the half-light deepen; colour dies.
\nI bear you, a light burden, to the shrouded sands,<\/p>\n

Where lies your waiting boat, by wreaths of the sea’s making
\nMist-garlanded, with all grey weeds of the water crowned.
\nThere you’ll be laid, past fear of sleep or hope of waking;
\nAnd over the unmoving sea, without a sound,<\/p>\n

Faint hands will row you outward, out beyond our sight,
\nUs with stretched arms and empty eyes on the far-gleaming
\nAnd marble sand. . . .
\nBeyond the shifting cold twilight,
\nFurther than laughter goes, or tears, further than dreaming,
\nThere’ll be no port, no dawn-lit islands!? But the drear
\nWaste darkening, and, at length, flame ultimate on the deep.
\nOh, the last fire ? and you, unkissed, unfriended there!
\nOh, the lone way’s red ending, and we not there to weep!<\/p>\n

(We found you pale and quiet, and strangely crowned with flowers,
\nLovely and secret as a child.? You came with us,
\nCame happily, hand in hand with the young dancing hours,
\nHigh on the downs at dawn!)? Void now and tenebrous,<\/p>\n

The grey sands curve before me. . . .
\nFrom the inland meadows,
\nFragrant of June and clover, floats the dark, and fills
\nThe hollow sea’s dead face with little creeping shadows,
\nAnd the white silence brims the hollow of the hills.<\/p>\n

Close in the nest is folded every weary wing,
\nHushed all the joyful voices; and we, who held you dear,
\nEastward we turn and homeward, alone, remembering . . .
\nDay that I loved, day that I loved, the Night is here!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Day That I Have Loved by Rupert Brooke Tenderly, day that I have loved, I close your eyes, And smooth your quiet brow, and fold your thin dead hands. The grey veils of the half-light deepen; colour dies. I bear you, a light burden, to the shrouded sands, Where lies your waiting boat, by wreaths…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[84,42],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-577","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-1900s","category-brooke"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t