He's gone.
I do not understand.
I only know
That as he turned to go
And waved his hand,
In his young eyes a sudden glory shone,
And I was dazzled with a sunset glow,
And he was gone.
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This poem was written for Rupert Brooke, who died, at the age of 28 in 1915. Brooke appeares to have been held in very high regard by other poets of the time and personally I feel that Gibson is writing about his death.
http://oldpoetry.com/oauthor/show/Rupert_Brooke
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Von
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