Rupert Brooke
WHEN Beauty and Beauty meet  
 All naked, fair to fair,  
The earth is crying-sweet,  
 And scattering-bright the air,  
Eddying, dizzying, closing round,  
 With soft and drunken laughter;  
Veiling all that may befall  
 After—after—  
 
Where Beauty and Beauty met,  
 Earth’s still a-tremble there,    
And winds are scented yet,  
 And memory-soft the air,  
Bosoming, folding glints of light,  
 And shreds of shadowy laughter;  
Not the tears that fill the years
 After—after—
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