So light we were, so right we were, so fair faith shone, <br />And the way was laid so certainly, that, when I'd gone, <br />What dumb thing looked up at you? Was it something heard, <br />Or a sudden cry, that meekly and without a word <br />You broke the faith, and strangely, weakly, slipped apart. <br />You gave in -- you, the proud of heart, unbowed of heart! <br />Was this, friend, the end of all that we could do? <br />And have you found the best for you, the rest for you? <br />Did you learn so suddenly (and I not by!) <br />Some whispered story, that stole the glory from the sky, <br />And ended all the splendid dream, and made you go <br />So dully from the fight we know, the light we know? <br /> <br />O faithless! the faith remains, and I must pass <br />Gay down the way, and on alone. Under the grass <br />You wait; the breeze moves in the trees, and stirs, and calls, <br />And covers you with white petals, with light petals. <br />There it shall crumble, frail and fair, under the sun, <br />O little heart, your brittle heart; till day be done, <br />And the shadows gather, falling light, and, white with dew, <br />Whisper, and weep; and creep to you. Good sleep to you!<br /><br />Rupert Brooke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/desertion/
