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Paralysis

Rupert Brooke 1887 (Rugby) – 1915 (Aegean Sea)


For moveless limbs no pity I crave,
 That never were swift! Still all I prize,
Laughter and thought and friends, I have;
 No fool to heave luxurious sighs
For the woods and hills that I never knew.
The more excellent way's yet mine! And you

Flower-laden come to the clean white cell,
 And we talk as ever -- am I not the same?
With our hearts we love, immutable,
 You without pity, I without shame.
We talk as of old; as of old you go
Out under the sky, and laughing, I know,

Flit through the streets, your heart all me;
 Till you gain the world beyond the town.
Then -- I fade from your heart, quietly;
 And your fleet steps quicken. The strong down
Smiles you welcome there; the woods that love you
Close lovely and conquering arms above you.

O ever-moving, O lithe and free!
 Fast in my linen prison I press
On impassable bars, or emptily
 Laugh in my great loneliness.
And still in the white neat bed I strive
Most impotently against that gyve;
Being less now than a thought, even,
To you alone with your hills and heaven.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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Rupert Brooke

Rupert Chawner Brooke was an English poet known for his idealistic war sonnets written during the First World War, especially "The Soldier". more…

All Rupert Brooke poems | Rupert Brooke Books

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    "Paralysis" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 15 Jun 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/33712/paralysis>.

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