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Captain Robert von Ranke Graves (24 July 1895 – 7 December 1985) was an English poet, soldier, historical novelist and critic. His father was Alfred Perceval Graves , a celebrated Irish poet and figure in the Gaelic revival ; they were both Celticists and students of Irish mythology .
By a Spring day, By Picard clay. Show me the two so closely bound. As we, by the wet bond of blood, By friendship blossoming from mud, By Death: we faced him, and we found. Beauty in Death, In dead men, breath. Source: Fairies and Fusiliers (1918)
Robert Graves is remembered as a poet, historian, literary critic, and classicist. He wrote poems, biographies, and anthologies.
The Kiss. By Robert Graves. Are you shaken, are you stirred. By a whisper of love, Spellbound to a word. Does Time cease to move, Till her calm grey eye. Expands to a sky. And the clouds of her hair.
By Robert Graves. Now I begin to know at last, These nights when I sit down to rhyme, The form and measure of that vast. God we call Poetry, he who stoops. And leaps me through his paper hoops. A little higher every time. Tempts me to think I’ll grow a proper. Singing cricket or grass-hopper.
Robert Graves (1895-1985) was a writer of extraordinary breadth whose output ranges from a classic account of his First World War experiences, Goodbye to All That, through the “potboiler” (his own term) success of I, Claudius, to the poems inspired by his quasi-mystical devotion to the ‘White Goddess’. Born in Wimbledon, it was Graves ...
5 days ago · Spring and Fairyland are his. And all’s poetry with him. ... Read all poems by Robert Graves written. Most popular poems of Robert Graves, famous Robert Graves and all 141 poems in this page.
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