Poem by Rupert Chawner Brooke

Failure

   Because God put His adamantine fate
    Between my sullen heart and its desire,
   I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate,
    Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire.
   Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy,
    But Love was as a flame about my feet;
    Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; and beat
   Thrice on the Gate, and entered with a cry --

   All the great courts were quiet in the sun,
    And full of vacant echoes:  moss had grown
   Over the glassy pavement, and begun
    To creep within the dusty council-halls.
   An idle wind blew round an empty throne
    And stirred the heavy curtains on the walls.

1. Lines Written in the Belief That the Ancient Roman Festival of the Dead Was Called Ambarvalia
2. Sonnet: in Time of Revolt
3. The True Beatitude
4. Thoughts on the Shape of the Human Body
5. I Said I Splendidly Loved You; It's Not True

Madison Cawein Failure ("There are some souls")

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