Rupert Brooke
How should I know? The enormous wheels of will  
 Drove me cold-eyed on tired and sleepless feet.  
Night was void arms and you a phantom still,  
 And day your far light swaying down the street.  
As never fool for love, I starved for you;
 My throat was dry and my eyes hot to see.  
Your mouth so lying was most heaven in view,  
 And your remembered smell most agony.  
 
Love wakens love! I felt your hot wrist shiver  
 And suddenly the mad victory I planned
 Flashed real, in your burning bending head...
My conqueror’s blood was cool as a deep river  
 In shadow; and my heart beneath your hand  
 Quieter than a dead man on a bed.
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