Explore "Reproach" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Your grieving moonlight face looks down / Through the forest of my fears, / Crowned with a spiny bramble-crown, / Dew-dropped with evening tears.
Why do you spell "untrue, unkind," / Reproachful eyes plaguing my sleep? / I am not guilty in my mind / Of aught would make you weep.
Untrue? but how, what broken oath? / Unkind? I know not even your name. / Unkind, untrue, you charge me both, / Scalding my heart with shame.
The black trees shudder, dropping snow, / The stars tumble and spin. / Speak, speak, or how may a child know / His ancestral sin?