The Great Lover by Rupert Brooke

“the Great Lover” by Rupert Brooke

Rupert Brooke acquired a legendary fame, particularly for his patriotic poems. Later critics depreciated his naïve and sentimental attitude towards war and life in general. His reputation, however, as a popular patriotic poet endures. The narrator

had been so great a lover and had filled his days so proudly with the splendour of Love’s praise, the pain, the calm and astonishment that desires illimitable yet still contend. All the dear names that men use to cheat despair for the perplexed…dark of life; the bewildering emotions that control the human heart;…ere the …Steals down; before death pulls the curtain down upon all thoughts and acts forever; drowsy Death; death is often referred to as eternal sleep. His night would be remembered for a star that outshone all the suns of men’s days.
Should he not crown them with immortal praise? Whom he had loved? Who had given him, dared with him his high secrets and in darkness knelt to see the inenarrable; impossible to describe; godhead of delight. Love is a flame and both have beaconed the world’s night, a city that he imagined to be built and he would be the emperor just as they have taught the world to die. So for their sakes he loved before he went hence to the high cause of Love’s magnificence and to keep loyalties young. He would write those names golden forever, eagles and crying flames and set them as a banner that men may know to dare the generations, burn and blow out on the wind of time-shining and streaming-were of the things that he loved.
The white plates and cups, clean gleaming, ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust; dust that is so fine as to seem like feather, nearly invisible like fabled fairies; wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust of friendly bread and many tasting food. The rainbows and the blue bitter smoke of wood; the radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers that sway through sunny hours and dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon. Then the cool kindliness of sheets that smooths away trouble and the rough male kiss of blankets. The live hair that is shining and free, the blue massing clouds, the keen unpassioned beauty of a great machine, the benison; a blessing which carries a benign and a soothing touch; furs to touch and the good smell of old clothes. The comfortable smell of friendly fingers, hair’s fragrance and the musty reek; slightly stale smell of old, unused things; that lingers about dead leaves and last years’ ferns.

And thousand throng to him! ; many other also crowd his mind; the Royal flames and sweet water’s dimpling laugh; rippling laughter like the ripples of flowing water; from tap or spring. The holes in the ground and the voices that sing in laughter and the body’s pain soon turned to peace, so did the deep panting train. The firm sands in the dulling edge of foam browns and dwindles as the waves returned back to the sea and the washen stone, gay for an hour; washing stones which shine brightly when wet; the cold graveness of iron and the moist black earthen mould sleep in high places. The footprints in the dew, oaks with brown horse chestnuts, glossy new and new peeled sticks and shining pools on grass. All these were loved by the lover. Yet all these shall pass in the great hour; the hour of death; not for the sake of his passion, all his prayers, have power to hold them with him through the gates of death.
Yet all these would play deserter that would turn with a traitor breath and would break the high bond they made when they sell love’s trust and sacramented covenant; sacred pact or understanding; to the dust. Never a doubt but somewhere he would wake and give what is left of love again to make new friends out of strangers again. The best that he had known stays there and changes, breaks grows old, is blown about the winds of the world which fades from brains of living men and then dies. Nothing would remain. The lover then summoned the faithless ones and the ones he loved to once again accept his last gift that he would give i.e. after men would know and later lovers far removed, to praise them all that were lovely when he said that he loved them all indeed.