Explore "Song of Contrariety" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Far away is close at hand, / Close joined is far away, / Love might come at your command / Yet will not stay.
At summons of your dream-despair / She could not disobey, / But slid close down beside you there / And complaisant lay.
Yet now her flesh and blood consent / In waking hours of day, / Joy and passion both are spent, / Fading clean away.
Is the presence empty air, / Is the spectre clay, / That Love, lent substance by despair, / Wanes, and leaves you lonely there / On the bridal day?