Comments about Rupert Brooke

Click to write a comment about Rupert Brooke

ArunKum38053152: Now that we've done our best and worst, and parted, I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend (O ,heart ,I do not dare to go empty hearted ) I'll think of Love in books, Love without end... Rupert Brooke

war_poets: 19 October 1916 Edward Thomas writes to Robert Frost about Rupert Brooke ‘I think he succeeded in being youthful and yet intelligible and interesting (not only pathologically) more than most poets since Shelley. But thought gave him (and me) indigestion’

MistyMissChrsty: Clara Ewald (October 22, 1859-January 15, 1948) was a German artist who worked primarily as a portraitist; her works are in several British public collections. Her best-known work is perhaps the portrait of the poet Rupert Brooke.

war_poets: 21 October 1914 Rupert Brooke writes to Katharine Cox ‘there’s a lot of little things I’ve forgotten. (1)A little mirror to stand or hang. (2)A tin mug with a handle. (3)A collapsible aluminium cup. (4)Toilet paper (5)A bit of sweet-scented soap.

SFFAudio: Early 20th century poet, Rupert Brooke, wrote of his romance and enchantment with a Tahitian woman in his heart and soul shattering poem TIARE TAHITI

SFFAudio: Tiare Tahiti BY RUPERT BROOKE Mamua, when our laughter ends, And hearts and bodies, brown as white, Are dust about the doors of friends, Or scent ablowing down the night, Then, oh! then, the wise agree, Comes our immortality.

SFFAudio: Rupert Brooke left his lover in Tahiti, perhaps pregnant with his child, and went off to die a sailor in WWI

SFFAudio: RUPERT BROOKE

SFFAudio: seems to me RUPERT BROOKE not reuniting with his Mamua and their child in an afterlife is a big deal "Mamua, there waits a land Hard for us to understand. Out of time, beyond the sun, All are one in Paradise" While the "wise" sneer he and she reveled "there, on the Ideal Reef"

war_poets: 17 October 1914 Rupert Brooke writes 'I caught conjunctivitis, alias pink-eye, in some of the foul places we slept in: and my eyes have been swollen, red, unlovely, exuding thick plum-tree gum, and very painful. I hope they’re getting better’

j0ne_s_: just teared up about the death of rupert brooke

GrayScamp1979: Absolutely beautiful. 'If I should die, think only of this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field, That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware...' Rupert Brooke WW1 soldier

ChellaDug: If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a Belmullet field That is for ever providing early cover for Corncrake*.  *Apologies to the memory of Rupert Brooke

LacusSilvarum: Rupert Brooke

lornlornlors: Just thinking about how hot ww1 poet Rupert Brooke was

atShoalstone: Forever a favourite, the loveliest poem; the mighty 'The Call' ☄️ by Rupert Brooke: 'There was a thunder on the deep...'

fluencymark: The ending of Rupert Brooke’s sonnet A Channel Passage, one of the funniest poems in the English language.

JohnnyCRSr: A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years. ~ Rupert Brooke

carylloper: A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years ~ Rupert Brooke

plastic_bio: If I should die think only this of me:That there's some corner of a foreign fieldThat is for ever England. - Rupert Brooke

CamDigLib: Last but by no means least, On another war time great we feast. With Rupert Brooke, be not mistook, We can while away the days!

war_poets: 7 October 1914 Rupert Brooke writes ‘There’s the excitement in the trenches–we weren’t attacked seriously in our part–with people losing their heads and fussing and snapping. It’s queer to see the people who do break under the strain of danger and responsibility’

AstronautHeart: Today’s slightly weird shopping combo: 16oz boxing gloves and a Rupert Brooke biography. Your move, algorithm.

nickfshort: Just bought a 1919 edition of Rupert Brooke's Collected Poems. I'm beyond excited. My favourite English 20th century poet, bar none. Go me!

war_poets: 6 October 1914 Rupert Brooke writes ‘So we got out at Antwerp, and marched through the streets, and everyone cheered and flung themselves on us and gave us apples and chocolate and flags and kisses, and cried Vivent les Anglais and ‘Heep! Heep! Heep!’

war_poets: 5 October 1914 Rupert Brooke, newly arrived in France, writes ‘I had to imagine, supposing I was killed. There was nothing but a vague gesture of goodbye to you and my mother and a friend or two. I seemed so remote and barren and stupid. I seemed to have missed everything'

WasteNotTrading: Check out The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke: With a Memoir 1918 third impression h/back

war_poets: 4 October 1914 Rupert Brooke writes ‘We were pulled out of bed at 5 a.m. on the Sunday, and told that we started at 9. We marched down to Dover, highly excited, only knowing that we were bound for Dunkirk, and supposing that we’d stay there quietly, training for a month.

war_poets: 3 October 1914 Rupert Brooke writes ‘I’ve had such a busy week! I’ve been learning everything all at once, fighting all night, marching all day, drilling & God knows what. I’ve not had a minute to myself’

war_poets: 3 October 1916 Vera Brittain writes ' A mist came over my eyes as I looked on this lonely place where Rupert Brooke died, and I remembered so vividly the first time I heard his poems’

gavinashenden: This is very funny. Especially the Rupert Brooke.

war_poets: 1 October 1914 Rupert Brooke writes to Cathleen Nesbitt ‘I’m kept at it all day. This morning I was drilling like Hell. This afternoon I had to inspect two hundred rifles. Now I’m lying on my camp bed snatching a rest, before dressing for a ‘night attack’.’

JohnKeatsTweet1: Rupert Brooke recounts losing and recovering his Keats poems on the Dorset coast. A much happier outcome than when Shelley’s book of Keats poems ended up in the sea - still in his pocket.

welfordwrites: Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night. Rupert Brooke

QuteBot: I know what things are good: friendship and work and conversation. (Rupert Brooke)

ekstasisveiled: if i were a male philhellene, i would aspire to die like byron or rupert brooke. since i’m a female philhellene, i aspire to throw myself off a cliff like sappho

WarPoetsAssn: “Rupert Brooke” — 1887 - 1915 by John L C Brown To have lived and loved — yea, even for a little, To have known the sun and fulness of the earth; To have tasted joy nor stayed to prove it brittle, And travelled grief to find it end in mirth;

ddhitchens: “I shall desire and I shall find The best of my desires; The autumn road, the mellow wind That soothes the darkening shires, And laughter, and inn-fires.” (Rupert Brooke)

dmit131: Poem of the Day 26 September 2021 - Sonnet Reversed BY RUPERT BROOKE Hand trembling towards hand; the amazing lights Of heart and eye. They stood on supreme heights. Ah, the delirious weeks of honeymoon! Soon they returned, and, after strange...

war_poets: 24 September 1914 Rupert Brooke writes to Jacques Raverat ‘I haven’t precisely joined the Army: but I’ve joined the Navy–a more English thing to do, I think … I felt that if we were going to turn into a military nation, and all the young men go in, I should be among them’

BestQuote85: A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years. -Rupert Brooke -Valentine's Day Follow Please

SFFAudio: recorded two new READING, SHORT AND DEEP episodes thismorning THE PRINCESS AND THE TIN BOX by James Thurber and TIARE TAHITI by Rupert Brooke one is funny the other is a superbeautiful heart-rending existential romance

louderyay: A new personal best: my *fourth* (and last, honest!) Spoons today: the Rupert Brooke in Rugby. Look, I really, really needed a warm mini brownie with ice cream, all right? :P

historicwomens: Ka Cox was a Fabian and graduate of Cambridge University. There, she met Rupert Brooke, became his lover, and was a member of his Neo-Pagans. She was also a friend of Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Group.

WarPoetsAssn: A tribute to friend Rupert Brooke: “To R — at Anzac” You left your vineyards, dreaming of the vines in a dream land And dim Italian cities where high cathedrals stand. At Anzac in the evening, so many things we planned, And now you sleep with comrades in the Anafarta sand.

princessekateri: Skyros lies in the Northern Aegean. In the First World War, Tris Boukes Bay was used as anchorage for hospital ships treating the wounded from Gallipoli. It was on one of these that the English poet Rupert Brooke died in April 1915. He was buried on the island. (I)

Allen1Mark: Lt.Cdr. Patrick Houston Shaw-Stewart RNVR- Killed in action 30 December 1917 leading Hood Bn RND - Served Gallipoli & Salonika. Lead the firing party at the funeral of Rupert Brooke. Poet & close friend of Julian Grenfell. Buried Metz-en-Couture Communal British Extension

pffilipini: Where Beauty and Beauty met, Earth’s still a-tremble there, And winds are scented yet, And memory-soft the air. [Rupert Brooke]

war_poets: 14 September 1914 Rupert Brooke writes to Lady Eileen Wellesley ‘This is all very confusing, & exciting, getting things for Camp Life. It appears my ‘kit’ won’t be ready until Wednesday or Thursday, so I shall be in London till then.’

Todd62012949: Rupert Brooke is my twin flame

war_poets: 12 September 1915 Joyce Kilmer reviews Rupert Brooke’s poems in the New York Times.

ACarpenDigital: Re the Greater Cambridge Local Plan evidence bases, ***Not everyone can be located in Central Cambridge with views looking over King's College Chapel, Rupert Brooke punting along the Cam, & public schoolboys in period costume singing Winterval Carols below your office windows!***

EllieintheWorld: “I suppose an Englishman in another country, if he is simple enough, is continually and alternately struck by two thoughts: ‘How like England this is!’ and ‘How unlike England this is!’” Rupert Brooke, Letters from America.

SebCavendish: We are Earth's best, that learnt her lesson here. Life is our cry. We have kept the faith! we said; We shall go down with unreluctant tread, Rose-crowned into the darkness!… Proud we were, and laughed, that had such brave true things to say - Rupert Brooke

Orgetorix: House in Grantchester, Cambridgeshire with ties to poet Rupert Brooke to be sold at auction

Orgetorix: Letters from war poet Rupert Brooke sell for nearly £10,000 in Cambridge

Orgetorix: Poet Rupert Brooke's letters to Fiji friend sell for £9,000

Orgetorix: On Grantchester, Rupert Brooke and Idleness

ACarpenDigital: ....as did war poet Rupert Brooke ->

BryanMatthews23: Rupert Brooke

war_poets: 3 September 1914 Edward Thomas writes ‘Hodgson is guarding the Chelsea Gas Works. Rupert Brooke I hear has joined the army. The Blast poets I hear have not. If this war goes on I believe I shall find myself a sort of Englishman, tho neither poet nor soldier’

CheffinsFineArt: Entries close tomorrow but there's still time to submit books, maps, prints and letters for our next Library sale. Our last sale back in May saw two autograph letters signed by English poet, Rupert Brooke, sell for £9,058! The next Library Sale takes place on 21st October.

Greebohobbes: Rupert Brooke He was an English poet known for his idealistic war sonnets written during the First World War. He was also known for his boyish good looks, which were said to have prompted the Irish poet W. B. Yeats to describe him as "the handsomest young man in England".

mfrancispoet: Rupert Brooke's Greatest Hits: If I should die, think only this of me: And is there honey still for tea?

RobertaEaton17: The Poetry of Rupert Brooke

SFFAudio: Well actually... The title of this episode comes from the second to last line of a very interesting poem (it was also used title of an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel) Tiare Tahiti by Rupert Brooke written in Tahiti in 1914, the title refers to a particular flower

LiteraryNiagara: So important to remember these stories at the Falls. "... as incessant, as inevitable, and as unavailing as the spray that hangs over the Falls, is the white cloud of human crying..." - the poet Rupert Brooke, from his visit the year before the start of WWI

welfordwrites: Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night. Rupert Brooke

war_poets: 24 August 1914 Rupert Brooke writes ‘I’ve spent a fortnight in chasing elusive employment about. For a time I got drilled on the chance of getting into a London corps as a private. But now I really think I shall get a commission (Territorial, probably) through Cambridge’

CraigSMaxwell: ...But the best that I've known, Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown About the winds of the world, and fades from brains Of living men, and dies. Nothing remains. --Rupert Brooke

war_poets: 24 August 1914 Rupert Brooke sends Edward Marsh a ‘rough’ version of a new poem, later published as ‘The Treasure’.

YouTopianAndrew: If I should die, think only this of me: That there’s some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam; Rupert Brooke

Stephan46580795: Rupert Brooke

KellyYo24037929: Rupert Brooke

mkfbenoit: Rupert Brooke.

thatbobertguy: I'm terrible at choosing, so.... -Mozart -Schubert -Bellini -Gerstl (Austrian expressionist painter) -Schiele -Winehouse -Rupert Brooke -James Dean

GRACEcom_: A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out the years. - Rupert Brooke

chris_ryates: couldn’t respond to any emails in the past 48 hours because I was very busy thinking about Rupert Brooke in a college production of Comus

okvivienne: the Rupert Brooke table 8 xx bless me

CambsArchives: It boasts many famous literary patrons including Rupert Brooke, Virginia Woolf and E.M Forster, as well as tourists & loyal locals. The sale particular shows the two lots up for auction; lot 1 for the tea gardens & lot 2 for the adjoining ‘bijou residence’ known as The Appleloft.

wherrypilgrim: "I met a man this morning Who did not wish to die" —British soldier & poet Patrick Shaw Stewart born Aug. 17 1888. He was one of the officers who buried Rupert Brooke on Skyros, offering the graveside gun salute. His poem "Achilles in the Trench":

LoveCarousel: Love by Rupert Brooke

I_Aljemhour: "A book may be compared to your neighbour: if it be good, it cannot last too long; if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early." Rupert Brooke (b. 3 August 1887)

RongKaws: To those who think American is getting out of Afghanistan too soon please read "The Soldier" by Rupert Brooke or at least listen to "The Gunner's Dream" by Pink Floyd. The time is now.

planetearthx2: Rupert Chawner Brooke 1887-1915 English poet known for his idealistic war sonnets written during the First World War, especially The Soldier.

Heidi_Cuda: bury me in the future, when the inelegance of these times, a bitter memory fades. (“the activist”, a poem by me, inspired by “the soldier” by rupert brooke)

GeorgeMiler3: problems, whether it was the question of winning a war, Stalin's industrial program, Hitler's Final Solution, Rupert Brooke's attempt to find meaning in life, Japan's desire to find a solution to economic depression (the usual pattern for a lack of investment in better ways to

RedShirtFriday: Not enough people quote/reference the classics (myself included, slacker), but I coincidentally just saw a similar "wine-dark sea" reference by a WWI British officer (& poet, Rupert Brooke) about to land in Gallipoli earlier today. Not comparing events, just the poetic language.

RajivaW: The literary blog today looks at some little known poetry by Rupert Brooke, which I found in the little library at the cottage when a recent lockdown necessitated further foraging there

war_poets: 12 August 1914 Rupert Brooke visits a music hall ‘Then a scribbled message was thrown; ‘War declared with Austria. 11.9.’ There was a volley of quick low handclapping – more of a signal of recognition than anything else. Then we dispersed into Trafalgar Square’

meolscop1978: To paraphrase Rupert Brooke "Stands the Church clock at half past three. And is there honey still for tea?"

war_poets: 8 August 1915 Vera Brittain writes to Roland Leighton ‘I am so glad you liked Rupert Brooke. I too read the book straight through & then wanted to ‘write things myself’ very badly indeed.’

JJ56123: Rupert Brooke was also known for his boyish good looks, which were said to have prompted the Irish poet W. B. Yeats to describe him as "the handsomest young man in England" Brooke developed pneumococcal sepsis from an infected mosquito bite &died of septicaemia at the age of 27

war_poets: 6 August 1914 Rupert Brooke writes ‘One can’t ‘go and fight’ in England. Volunteers are admitted neither to the Navy nor the Army. If one joins the Territorials now, they give you six months’ training and then let you garrison the chief ports and sea towns’

AstroCowwboy: “Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be       Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene,       That men call age; and those who would have been, Their sons, they gave, their immortality.” -Rupert Brooke

Fixedthatforya: macrolit:“A book may be compared to your neighbour: if it be good, it cannot last too long; if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.” — Rupert Brooke (b. 3 August 1887)

NORTHTRENTON: Happy Birthday to William Kennedy Dickson (d. 1935), Geza Gardonyi (d. 1922), Stanley Baldwin (d. 1947), Vernon Louis Parrington (d. 1929), Haakon VII of Norway (d. 1957), Maithili Sharan Gupt (d. 1964), Rupert Brooke (d. 1915) and Konstantin Melnikov (d. 1974).

vareij: Jean McNicol · Something Rather Scandalous: The Loves of Rupert Brooke · LRB 19 October 2016

mrjohnofarrell: The Hill, by Rupert Brooke, 1887-1915. Breathless, we flung us on the windy hill, Laughed in the sun, and kissed the lovely grass. You said, “Through glory and ecstasy we pass; Wind, sun, and earth remain, the birds sing still, When we are old, are old.…” “And when we die

RayBoomhower: “A book may be compared to your neighbour: if it be good, it cannot last too long; if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early” Rupert Brooke, born on this day in 1887



Write your comment about Rupert Brooke


Poem of the day

Eugene Field Poem
The Cunnin' Little Thing
 by Eugene Field

When baby wakes of mornings,
Then it's wake, ye people all!
For another day
Of song and play
Has come at our darling's call!
And, till she gets her dinner,
She makes the welkin ring,
And she won't keep still till she's had her fill-
...

Read complete poem

Popular Poets