Here in turn succeed and rule
Carter, smith, and village fool,
Then again the place is known
As tavern, shop, and Sunday-school;
...
Read full text
Graves weaves a net of magic with his words. A simply beautiful poem, wonderfully etched, like a little picture-book opened in front of the eyes. Full marks!
Such beauty of image and writing.... such melancholy as th the poet waits for death to end his beautiful life and pen. Extraordinary piece of writing.
Beautiful poem. All nature's little things flow to mind like cool stream.
What strikes me most is the wonderful portrayal of nature and through all this the poet presents a philosophy of life based on his own experience. I quote a few lines: Rooks above the cherry-tree, Bramble-bush and bumble-bee,
Oh, be not rude to Dr death If it not be for His cosmic grace We would live even in ill health Suffering not living in this place When the allotted time is past (which anyways flies a bit too fast) Walking corpses too weak to smile But endlessly walking on these arid miles..........
Beautiful poem, a pleasure to read. Thanks for sharing it here.
beautiful poem written by poet robert. i liked his simple way of seeing all great things. lines are built by sweet sound words. and telling at the end, his passion for writting rhyme.
as inevitable as true slipping and being slurped through