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Monday, July 30, 2012

A Memory by Rupert Brooke

(From a sonnet-sequence)

Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept 
Softly along the dim way to your room, 
And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom, 
And holiness about you as you slept. 
I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept
About my head, and held it. I had rest 
Unhoped this side of Heaven, beneath your breast. 
I knelt a long time, still; nor even wept. 

It was great wrong you did me; and for gain 
Of that poor moment’s kindliness, and ease,
And sleepy mother-comfort! 
Child, you know 
How easily love leaps out to dreams like these, 
Who has seen them true. And love that’s wakened so 
Takes all too long to lay asleep again.

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