posted on 2024-04-05, 12:55authored byFirst World War Poetry Digital Archive Project Team
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.
History
Identifier
3421.txt
Creator
Graves, Robert (1895-1985)
Date
(1995, 1997, 1999)
Date Created
01/01/1997
Temporal Date
31/12/1999
Type
Poem
Rights
The Robert Graves Copyright Trust / Published in Graves, R. (1999) Complete Poems: Volumes 1 - 3. Eds. B. Graves and D. Ward. London: Penguin Books.