Robert Graves

(1895 - 1985 / London / England)

Robert Graves Poems

121. Love Without Hope 1/3/2003
122. In Broken Images 1/3/2003
123. She Tells Her Love 1/3/2003
124. A Slice Of Wedding Cake 4/1/2010
125. When I'M Killed 1/3/2003
126. A Boy In Church 1/3/2003
127. The Naked And The Nude 1/3/2003
128. An Old Twenty-Third Man 1/3/2003
129. Careers 1/3/2003
130. An English Wood 1/3/2003
131. Symptoms Of Love 1/3/2003
132. I'D Love To Be A Fairy's Child 1/3/2003
133. Cherry-Time 1/3/2003
134. A Pinch Of Salt 1/3/2003
135. Babylon 1/3/2003
136. Down, Wanton, Down! 1/3/2003
137. A Frosty Night 4/1/2010
138. 1915 1/3/2003
139. A Child's Nightmare 1/3/2003
140. Call It A Good Marriage 1/3/2003
141. A Dead Boche 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Robert Graves

A Dead Boche

To you who'd read my songs of War
And only hear of blood and fame,
I'll say (you've heard it said before)
"War's Hell! " and if you doubt the same,
Today I found in Mametz Wood
A certain cure for lust of blood:

Where, propped against a shattered trunk,
In a great mess of things unclean,
Sat a dead Boche; he scowled and stunk
With clothes and face a sodden green,
Big-bellied, spectacled, crop-haired,
Dribbling black blood from nose and beard.

Read the full of A Dead Boche


Here down this very way,
Here only yesterday
    King Faun went leaping.
He sang, with careless shout
Hurling his name about;
He sang, with oaken stock
His steps from rock to rock
    In safety keeping,
    “Here Faun is free,

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