Tiare Tahiti

Tiare Tahiti

by Rupert Brooke

Maxima, when our laughter ends, And hearts and bodies, brown as white, Are dust about the doors of friends, Or scent ablowing down the night, Then, oh ! then, the wise agree, Conies our immortality.

Retrospect

by Rupert Brooke

In your arms was still delight, Quiet as a street at night; And thoughts of you, I do remember, Were green leaves in a darkened chamber, Were dark clouds in a moonless sky. Love, in you, went passing by, Penetrative, remote, and rare,

The great lover

by Rupert Brooke

I have been so great a lover : filled my days So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise, The pain, the calm, and the astonishment, Desire illimitable, and still content, And all dear names men use, to cheat despair, For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear Our hearts at random down the dark of life.

Waikiki

by Rupert Brooke

Warm perfumes like a breath from vine and tree Drift down the darkness. Plangent, hidden from eyes, Somewhere an eukaleli thrills and cries And stabs with pain the night's brown savagery.

The storm

by John Drinkwater

A mountain cottage. It is a midwinter night. Outside a snowstorm rages. Alice is looking through the window. Joan, her young sister, and Sarah, an old neighbour woman, are sitting over the fire.

Wheels

by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

To safety of the kerb he thrust the crone : When a shaft took him in the back, and prone He tumbled heavily, but all unheard Amid the scurry of wheels that crashed and whirred About his senseless head—his helmet crushed Iyike crumpled paper by a car that rushed Upon him unaware.

The innocents

by Lascelles Abercrombie

Night had squander'd over the glowing air The thousands of her stars. A slender woman— Sure-foot treading the path her childhood knew— Smiled at them as she went, in haste for home After the long day of a widow's toil;

Hoops

by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

SCENE : The big tent-stable of a travelling circus. On the ground near the entrance, GENTLEMAN JOHN, stableman and general odd-job man, lies smoking beside MERRY ANDREW, the clown. GENTLEMAN JOHN is a little hunched man with a sensitive face and dreamy eyes. MERRY ANDREW, who is resting between the afternoon and evening performances, with his clown's hat lying beside him, wears a crimson wig, and a baggy suit of orange-coloured cotton, patterned with purple cats. His face is chalked dead white, and painted with a set grin, so that it is impossible to see what manner of man he is. In the background are camels and elephants feeding, dimly visible in the steamy dusk of the tent.