Never be disenchanted of
That place you sometimes dream yourself into,
Lying at large remove beyond all dream,
Or those you find there, though but seldom
In their company seated -
The untameable, the live, the gentle.
Have you not known them? Whom? They carry
Time looped so river-wise about their
There's no way in by history's road
To name or number them.
In your sleepy eyes I read the journey
Of which disjointedly you tell; which stirs
My loving admiration, that you should travel
Through nightmare to a lost and moated land,
Who are timorous by nature.
- Robert Graves
No comments:
Post a Comment