Explore "1915" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I've watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow, / In the fields between La Bassee and Bethune; / Primroses and the first warm day of Spring, / Red poppy floods of June, / August, and yellowing Autumn, so / To Winter nights knee-deep in mud or snow, / And you've been everything.
Dear, you've been everything that I most lack / In these soul-deadening trenches -- pictures, books, / Music, the quiet of an English wood, / Beautiful comrade-looks, / The narrow, bouldered mountain-track, / The broad, full-bosomed ocean, green and black, / And Peace, and all that's good.