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Rupert Brooke was both fair to see and winning in his ways. There was at the first contact both bloom and charm; and most of all there was life. To use the word his friends describe him by, he was "vivid". This vitality, though manifold in expression, is felt primarily in his sensations — surprise mingled with delight — "One after one, like tasting a sweet food." This is life's "first fine rapture". It makes him patient to name over those myriad things each of which seems like a fresh discovery curious but potent, and above all common, that he "loved", — he the "Great Lover". Lover of what, then? Why, of "White plates and cups clean-gleaming, Ringed with blue lines," — and the like, through thirty lines of exquisite words; and he is captivated by the multiple brevity of these vignettes of sense, keen, momentary, ecstatic with the morning dip of youth in the wonderful stream. The poem is a catalogue of vital sensations and "dear names" as well. "All these have been my loves."