Page:Collected poems of Rupert Brooke.djvu/111

 DESERTION

light we were, so right we were, so fair faith shone,

And the way was laid so certainly, that, when I'd gone,

What dumb thing looked up at you? Was it something heard,

Or a sudden cry, that meekly and without a word

You broke the faith, and strangely, weakly, slipped apart.

You gave in—you, the proud of heart, unbowed of heart!

Was this, friend, the end of all that we could do?

And have you found the best for you, the rest for you?

Did you learn so suddenly (and I not by!)

Some whispered story, that stole the glory from the sky,

And ended all the splendid dream, and made you go

So dully from the fight we know, the light we know?

O faithless! the faith remains, and I must pass

Gay down the way, and on alone. Under the grass

You wait; the breeze moves in the trees, and stirs, and calls,

And covers you with white petals, with light petals.

There it shall crumble, frail and fair, under the sun,