The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke

Sonnet: "Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire"

   Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire
    Of watching you; and swing me suddenly
   Into the shade and loneliness and mire
    Of the last land!  There, waiting patiently,

   One day, I think, I'll feel a cool wind blowing,
    See a slow light across the Stygian tide,
   And hear the Dead about me stir, unknowing,
    And tremble.  And I shall know that you have died,

   And watch you, a broad-browed and smiling dream,
    Pass, light as ever, through the lightless host,
   Quietly ponder, start, and sway, and gleam —
    Most individual and bewildering ghost! —

   And turn, and toss your brown delightful head
   Amusedly, among the ancient Dead.