| Rupert Brooke (1887–1915). Collected Poems. 1916. |
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| II. 1908–1911 |
| 24. Song |
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| “OH! Love,” they said, “is King of Kings, | |
| And Triumph is his crown. | |
| Earth fades in flame before his wings, | |
| And Sun and Moon bow down.”— | |
| But that, I knew, would never do; | 5 |
| And Heaven is all too high. | |
| So whenever I meet a Queen, I said, | |
| I will not catch her eye. | |
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| “Oh! Love,” they said, and “Love,” they said, | |
| “The gift of Love is this; | 10 |
| A crown of thorns about thy head, | |
| And vinegar to thy kiss!”— | |
| But Tragedy is not for me; | |
| And I’m content to be gay. | |
| So whenever I spied a Tragic Lady, | 15 |
| I went another way. | |
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| And so I never feared to see | |
| You wander down the street, | |
| Or come across the fields to me | |
| On ordinary feet. | 20 |
| For what they’d never told me of, | |
| And what I never knew; | |
| It was that all the time, my love, | |
| Love would be merely you. | |
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