Rupert Brooke

Rupert Brooke

in Rugby, Warwickshire, The United Kingdom
August 03, 1887

April 23, 1915



Rupert Chawner Brooke (middle name sometimes given as Chaucer) (3 August 1887 – 23 April 1915) was an English poet known for his idealistic war sonnets written during the First World War, especially The Soldier. He was also known for his boyish good looks, which it is alleged prompted the Irish poet William Butler Yeats to describe him as "the handsomest young man in England."

Brooke was born at 5 Hillmorton Road in Rugby, Warwickshire, the second of the three sons of William Parker Brooke, a Rugby schoolmaster, and Ruth Mary Brooke, née Cotterill. He was educated at two independent schools in the market town of Rugby, Warwickshire; Hillbrow School and Rugby School.
While travelling in Europe he prepared a thesis entitled John Webster and the

Average rating: 4.02 · 1,849 ratings · 246 reviews · 83 distinct worksSimilar authors
The Collected Poems

4.03 avg rating — 304 ratings — published 1916 — 62 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
1914, and Other Poems

3.85 avg rating — 164 ratings — published 1915 — 24 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating

3.69 avg rating — 55 ratings — published 1915 — 2 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
The War Poets: A Selection ...

4.15 avg rating — 74 ratings — published 2011 — 2 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Poetical Works

3.75 avg rating — 79 ratings — published 1946 — 9 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
The Complete Poems

4.13 avg rating — 48 ratings — published 2013 — 8 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Rupert Brooke & Wilfred Owe...

4.21 avg rating — 28 ratings — published 2003
Rate this book
Clear rating
Letters from America

3.40 avg rating — 42 ratings — published 1916 — 42 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
The Soldier

3.18 avg rating — 22 ratings — published 2013
Rate this book
Clear rating
Rupert Brooke & W. Owen Ema...

4.20 avg rating — 15 ratings — published 1997
Rate this book
Clear rating
More books by Rupert Brooke…
“The Call

Out of the nothingness of sleep,
The slow dreams of Eternity,
There was a thunder on the deep:
I came, because you called to me.

I broke the Night's primeval bars,
I dared the old abysmal curse,
And flashed through ranks of frightened stars
Suddenly on the universe!

The eternal silences were broken;
Hell became Heaven as I passed. --
What shall I give you as a token,
A sign that we have met, at last?

I'll break and forge the stars anew,
Shatter the heavens with a song;
Immortal in my love for you,
Because I love you, very strong.

Your mouth shall mock the old and wise,
Your laugh shall fill the world with flame,
I'll write upon the shrinking skies
The scarlet splendour of your name,

Till Heaven cracks, and Hell thereunder
Dies in her ultimate mad fire,
And darkness falls, with scornful thunder,
On dreams of men and men's desire.

Then only in the empty spaces,
Death, walking very silently,
Shall fear the glory of our faces
Through all the dark infinity.

So, clothed about with perfect love,
The eternal end shall find us one,
Alone above the Night, above
The dust of the dead gods, alone.”
Rupert Brooke

“A kiss makes the heart young again and wipes out all the years.”
Rupert Brooke

“You gave me the key of your heart, my love;
Then why did you make me knock?”
Rupert Brooke, The Collected Poems

Topics Mentioning This Author