Finland
Robert Graves
Feet and faces tingle In that frore land: Legs wobble and go wingle, You scarce can stand. The skies are jewelled all around, The ploughshare snaps in the iron ground, The Finn with face like paper And eyes like a lighted taper Hurls his rough rune At the wintry moon And stamps to mark the tune.
Next 10 Poems
- Robert Graves : Free Verse
- Robert Graves : Goliath And David
- Robert Graves : I Hardly Remember
- Robert Graves : I Wonder What It Feels Like To Be Drowned?
- Robert Graves : I'd Love To Be A Fairy's Child
- Robert Graves : In Broken Images
- Robert Graves : In The Wilderness
- Robert Graves : John Skelton
- Robert Graves : Jonah
- Robert Graves : Letter To S.s. From Mametz Wood
