Robert Graves (1895–1985). Fairies and Fusiliers. 1918.
Index of First Lines
- An ancient saga tells us how
- And have we done with War at last?
- A purple whale
- Back from the line one night in June
- Back from the Somme two Fusiliers
- Bugler sent a call of high romance, The
- But I was dead, an hour or more
- Cherries of the night are riper
- Child alone a poet is, The
- Children born of fairy stock
- Christ of His gentleness
- Cruel Moon hangs out of reach, The
- Double red daisies, they’re my flowers
- Down in the mud I lay
- Father is quite the greatest poet
- Feet and faces tingle
- Gabble-gabble,… brethren,… gabble-gabble!
- Great sun sinks behind the town, The
- Here by a snowbound river
- Here down this very way
- Here in turn succeed and rule
- I never dreamed we’d meet that day
- I now delight
- Is that the Three-and-Twentieth, Strabo mine
- It doesn’t matter what’s the cause
- I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow
- Look at my knees
- Most venerable and learned sir
- My familiar ghost again
- Near Clapham village, where fields began
- Old Mr. Philosopher
- Through long nursery nights he stood
- To the woods, to the woods is the wizard gone
- To you who’d read my songs of War
- Under this loop of honeysuckle
- Walking through trees to cool my heat and pain
- What could be dafter
- What do you think
- When a dream is born in you
- When outside the icy rain
- When I’m killed, don’t think of me
- Why do you break upon this old, cool peace
- With a fork drive Nature out
- Yet once an earlier David took
- Youngest poet down the shelves was fumbling, The
- You young friskies who today