Rupert Brooke

The Goddess in the Wood

In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood,
   Amazed with sorrow.  Down the morning one
   Far golden horn in the gold of trees and sun
  Rang out; and held; and died. . . .  She thought the wood
  Grew quieter.  Wing, and leaf, and pool of light
   Forgot to dance.  Dumb lay the unfalling stream;
   Life one eternal instant rose in dream
  Clear out of time, poised on a golden height. . . .
 
  Till a swift terror broke the abrupt hour.
  The gold waves purled amidst the green above her;
   And a bird sang.  With one sharp-taken breath,
  By sunlit branches and unshaken flower,
  The immortal limbs flashed to the human lover,
   And the immortal eyes to look on death.
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