She Tells Her Love

She tells her love while half asleep
In the dark hours
With half words whispered low
As Earth stirs in her winter sleep
And puts out grass and flowers
Despite the snow.

~Robert Graves~
Poems 1938-1945

The Mountain Side at Evening

Now even falls
And fresh, cold breezes blow
Adown the grey-green mountain side
Strewn with rough boulders. Soft and low
Night speaks, her tongue untied
Darkness to darkness calls.

Tis now men say
From rugged piles of stones
Steal shapes and things that should be still;
Green terror ripples through our bones,
Our inmost heart-strings thrill
And yearn for careless day.

~Robert Graves~
The Carthusian
June 1911