From the candles and dumb shadows, <br /> And the house where love had died, <br />I stole to the vast moonlight <br /> And the whispering life outside. <br />But I found no lips of comfort, <br /> No home in the moon's light <br />(I, little and lone and frightened <br /> In the unfriendly night), <br />And no meaning in the voices. . . . <br /> Far over the lands and through <br />The dark, beyond the ocean, <br /> I willed to think of YOU! <br />For I knew, had you been with me <br /> I'd have known the words of night, <br />Found peace of heart, gone gladly <br /> In comfort of that light. <br /> <br />Oh! the wind with soft beguiling <br /> Would have stolen my thought away; <br />And the night, subtly smiling, <br /> Came by the silver way; <br />And the moon came down and danced to me, <br /> And her robe was white and flying; <br />And trees bent their heads to me <br /> Mysteriously crying; <br />And dead voices wept around me; <br /> And dead soft fingers thrilled; <br />And the little gods whispered. . . . <br /> But ever <br /> Desperately I willed; <br />Till all grew soft and far <br /> And silent . . . <br /> And suddenly <br />I found you white and radiant, <br /> Sleeping quietly, <br />Far out through the tides of darkness. <br /> And I there in that great light <br />Was alone no more, nor fearful; <br /> For there, in the homely night, <br />Was no thought else that mattered, <br /> And nothing else was true, <br />But the white fire of moonlight, <br /> And a white dream of you.<br /><br />Rupert Brooke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/finding/
