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Poem by Rupert Chawner Brooke


The Dance


            A Song

   As the Wind, and as the Wind,
       In a corner of the way,
   Goes stepping, stands twirling,
   Invisibly, comes whirling,
   Bows before, and skips behind,
     In a grave, an endless play--

   So my Heart, and so my Heart,
       Following where your feet have gone,
   Stirs dust of old dreams there;
   He turns a toe; he gleams there,
   Treading you a dance apart.
     But you see not. You pass on.

April 1915

Rupert Chawner Brooke


Rupert Chawner Brooke's other poems:
  1. Seaside
  2. The Jolly Company
  3. Lines Written in the Belief That the Ancient Roman Festival of the Dead Was Called Ambarvalia
  4. The True Beatitude
  5. Sonnet Reversed


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Henry Livingston The Dance ("Take the name of the swain, a forlorn witless elf")

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