Mythology & Folklore
Victory
From The Collected Poems of Rupert Brooke (1915)
All night the ways of Heaven were desolate,
Long roads across a gleaming empty sky.
Outcast and doomed and driven, you and I,
Alone, serene beyond all love or hate,
Terror or triumph, were content to wait,
We, silent and all-knowing. Suddenly
Swept through the heaven low-crouching from on high,
One horseman, downward to the earth's low gate.
Oh, perfect from the ultimate height of living,
Lightly we turned, through wet woods blossom-hung,
Into the open. Down the supernal roads,
With plumes a-tossing, purple flags far flung,
Rank upon rank, unbridled, unforgiving,
Thundered the black battalions of the Gods.
Codex Note
Two outcasts wait in an empty sky until the black battalions of the Gods thunder across it.
Cite this poem
MLA
Brooke, Rupert. “Victory.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/brooke/32/.
Chicago
Brooke, Rupert. “Victory.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/brooke/32/.
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