I'd watch the sorrow of the evening sky,
And smelt the the sea. and earth, and the warm clover,
And heard the waves, and the seagull's mocking cry.

And in them all was only the old cry,
That song they always sing-- " the best is over!
You may remember now, and think, and sigh.
O silly lover!"
And i was tired and sick that all was over,
And because I,
For all my thinking, never could recover
One moment of the ood hours that were over.
And i was sorry and sick, and wished to die.

Then from the sad and west turning wearily,
I saw the oines against the white north sky.
Very beautiful, very still, and bending over
And there was pece in them; and i
Was happy, and forgot to play the lover,
And laughed, and did no longer wish to die;
Being gald of you, O pine trees and the sky!

rupert brooke, 8 july 1907