Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WAYFARERS, by RUPERT BROOKE



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THE WAYFARERS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Is it the hour? We leave this resting-place
Last Line: Into the waste we know not, into the night?
Subject(s): Soldiers' Writings


Is it the hour? We leave this resting-place
Made fair by one another for a while.
Now, for a god-speed, one last mad embrace;
The long road then, unlit by your faint smile.
Ah! the long road! and you so far away!
Oh, I'll remember! but . . . each crawling day
Will pale a little your scarlet lips,ds we know,
Some gaunt eventual limit of our light,
In which I'll find you waiting; and we'll go
Together, hand in hand again, out there,
Into the waste we know not, into the night?








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