Page:Collected poems of Rupert Brooke.djvu/110

 I knew

Long expected and long loved, that afar, God of the dim wood, you

Somewhere lay, as a child sleeping, a child suddenly reft from mirth,

White and wonderful yet, white in your youth, stretched upon foreign earth,

God, immortal and dead!

Therefore I go; never to rest, or win

Peace, and worship of you more, and the dumb wood and the shrine therein.