Poem by Rupert Chawner Brooke

One Day

 Today I have been happy. All the day
   I held the memory of you, and wove
 Its laughter with the dancing light o' the spray,
   And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love,
 And sent you following the white waves of sea,
   And crowned your head with fancies, nothing worth,
 Stray buds from that old dust of misery,
   Being glad with a new foolish quiet mirth.

 So lightly I played with those dark memories,
 Just as a child, beneath the summer skies,
   Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone,
 For which (he knows not) towns were fire of old,
   And love has been betrayed, and murder done,
 And great kings turned to a little bitter mould.

1. He Wonders Whether to Praise or to Blame Her
2. Thoughts on the Shape of the Human Body
3. The Song of the Beasts
4. Finding
5. I Said I Splendidly Loved You; It's Not True

Archibald Lampman One Day ("The trees rustle; the wind blows")

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