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by Rupert Brooke, 1916

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.

Published in The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke
Tags: lust

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