Category Archives: Robert Graves

Granchester_Meadows_bw

Under the mill? c. 1912

Your hands, my dear, adorable,
Your lips of tenderness
—Oh, I’ve loved you faithfully and well,
Three years, or a bit less.
It wasn’t a success.

Thank God, that’s done! and I’ll take the road,
Quit of my youth and you,
The Roman road to Wendover
By Tring and Lilley Hoo,
As a free man may do.

For youth goes over, the joys that fly,
The tears that follow fast;
And the dirtiest things we do must lie
Forgotten at the last;
Even Love goes past.

I shall desire and I shall find
The best of my desires;
The autumn road, the mellow wind
That soothes the darkening shires.
And laughter, and inn-fires.

White mist about the black hedgerows,
The slumbering Midland plain,
The silence where the clover grows,
And the dead leaves in the lane,
Certainly, these remain.

But the years, that take the best away,
Give something in the end;
And a better friend than love have they,
For none to mar or mend,
That have themselves to friend.

 

Rupert Brooke

In the lines of Graves: prehistoric sexuality

Like J.R.R. Tolkien, Robert von Ranke Graves entered Oxford to study Classics but subsequently switched to English. Yet although three years the older, Tolkien enlisted only after taking his degree; Graves fought at the Somme before going up to Oxford. And while the interwar period saw Tolkien join the establishment as an Oxford Professor, Graves left England and said goodbye to all that. Continue reading