Rupert Brooke is perhaps best known for his “war” poetry, though he in fact died of sepsis on his way to his first engagement, at Gallipoli, and never saw action. I personally find his more peaceful and often quite humourous poetry far more engaging than anything he ever wrote on the subject of war. Indeed I do not even really regard him as a “war” poet at all. Here he is in his finest mode: subtle, amusing, beautiful and deep all at once. A celebration or a subtle critique? You decide. It is perhaps both, but certainly aimed at giving humans perspective on their own condition, and self beliefs. Apologies for the sound quality on this one. It was, like a number which will be published here, recorded on deck, in the open air, at anchor. It is an occupational hazard of being a professional sailor. I hope you enjoy in any case, and perhaps the faint sound of water in the background might not detract too far from its intended atmosphere.