spell dining room

"dining-room tea", by rupert brooke. read by frank blissett. when you were there, and you, and you, happiness crowned the night; i too, laughing and looking, one of all, i watched the quivering lamplight fall on plate and flowers and pouring tea and cup and cloth; and they and we flung all the dancing moments by

with jest and glitter. lip and eye flashed on the glory, shone and cried, improvident, unmemoried; and fitfully and like a flame the light of laughter went and came. proud in their careless transience moved the changing faces that i loved. till suddenly, and otherwhence, i looked upon your innocence.

for lifted clear and still and strange from the dark woven flow of change under a vast and starless sky i saw the immortal moment lie. one instant i, an instant, knew as god knows all. and it and you i, above time, oh, blind! could see in witless immortality. i saw the marble cup; the tea,

hung on the air, an amber stream; i saw the fire's unglittering gleam, the painted flame, the frozen smoke. no more the flooding lamplight broke on flying eyes and lips and hair; but lay, but slept unbroken there, on stiller flesh, and body breathless, and lips and laughter stayed and deathless, and words on which no silence grew.

light was more alive than you. for suddenly, and otherwhence, i looked on your magnificence. i saw the stillness and the light, and you, august, immortal, white, holy and strange; and every glint posture and jest and thought and tint freed from the mask of transiency, triumphant in eternity,

immote, immortal. dazed at length human eyes grew, mortal strength wearied; and time began to creep. change closed about me like a sleep. light glinted on the eyes i loved. the cup was filled. the bodies moved. the drifting petal came to ground. the laughter chimed its perfect round.

the broken syllable was ended. and i, so certain and so friended, how could i cloud, or how distress, the heaven of your unconsciousness? or shake at time's sufficient spell, stammering of lights unutterable? the eternal holiness of you, the timeless end, you never knew, the peace that lay, the light that shone.

you never knew that i had gone a million miles away, and stayed a million years. the laughter played unbroken round me; and the jest flashed on. and we that knew the best down wonderful hours grew happier yet. i sang at heart, and talked, and eat, and lived from laugh to laugh, i too, when you were there, and you, and you.

that was "dining-room tea", by rupert brooke.

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