Now that we’ve done our best and worst, and parted, <br />I would fill my mind with thoughts that will not rend. <br />(O heart, I do not dare go empty-hearted) <br />I’ll think of Love in books, Love without end; <br />Women with child, content; and old men sleeping; <br />And wet strong ploughlands, scarred for certain grain; <br />And babes that weep, and so forget their weeping; <br />And the young heavens, forgetful after rain; <br />And evening hush, broken by homing wings; <br />And Song’s nobility, and Wisdom holy, <br />That live, we dead. I would think of a thousand things, <br />Lovely and durable, and taste them slowly, <br />One after one, like tasting a sweet food. <br />I have need to busy my heart with quietude.<br /><br />Rupert Brooke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-busy-heart/
