Public-domain ebook

Over the Brazier

Name: Over the Brazier
Author: Robert Graves

by Robert Graves

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Language: en348 downloads on Project Gutenberg

Subjects

World War, 1914-1918 -- Poetry English poetry -- 20th century

In: Poetry·British Literature

Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #47144.

The opening · free to read

The Poet in the Nursery

The youngest poet down the shelves was fumbling In a dim library, just behind the chair From which the ancient poet was mum-mumbling A song about some Lovers at a Fair, Pulling his long white beard and gently grumbling That rhymes were beastly things and never there.

And as I groped, the whole time I was thinking About the tragic poem I'd been writing-- An old man's life of beer and whisky drinking, His years of kidnapping and wicked fighting; And how at last, into a fever sinking, Remorsefully he died, his bedclothes biting.

But suddenly I saw the bright green cover Of a thin pretty book right down below; I snatched it up and turned the pages over, To find it full of poetry, and so Put it down my neck with quick hands like a lover And turned to watch if the old man saw it go.

The book was full of funny muddling mazes Each rounded off into a lovely song, And most extraordinary and monstrous phrases Knotted with rhymes like a slave-driver's thong, And metre twisting like a chain of daisies With great big splendid words a sentence long.

I took the book to bed with me and gloated, Learning the lines that seemed to sound most grand, So soon the pretty emerald green was coated With jam and greasy marks from my hot hand, While round the nursery for long months there floated Wonderful words no one could understand.

PART I.--Poems Mostly Written at Charterhouse--1910-1914

Star-talk

"Are you awake, Gemelli, This frosty night?" "We'll be awake till reveillé, Which is Sunrise," say the Gemelli, "It's no good trying to go to sleep: If there's wine to be got we'll drink it deep, But sleep is gone to to-night, But sleep is gone for to-night."

"Are you cold too, poor Pleiads, This frosty night?" "Yes, and so are the Hyads: See us cuddle and hug," say the Pleiads, "All six in a ring: it keeps us warm: We huddle together like birds in a storm: It's bitter weather to-night, It's bitter weather to-night."

"What do you hunt, Orion, This starry night?" "The Ram, the Bull and the Lion, And the Great Bear," says Orion, "With my starry quiver and beautiful belt I am trying to find a good thick pelt To warm my shoulders to-night, To warm my shoulders to-night."

"Did you hear that, Great She-bear, This frosty night?" "Yes, he's talking of stripping me bare Of my own big fur," says the She-bear, "I'm afraid of the man and his terrible arrow: The thought of it chills my bones to the marrow, And the frost so cruel to-night! And the frost so cruel to-night!"

"How is your trade, Aquarius, This frosty night?" "Complaints is many and various And my feet are cold," says Aquarius, "There's Venus objects to Dolphin-scales, And Mars to Crab-spawn found in my pails, And the pump has frozen to-night, And the pump has frozen to-night."

The Dying Knight and the Fauns

Through the dreams of yesternight My blood brother great in fight I saw lying, slowly dying Where the weary woods were sighing With the rustle of the birches, With the quiver of the larches.... Woodland fauns with hairy haunches Grin in wonder through the branches Woodland fauns that know no fear. Wondering, they wander near Munching mushrooms red as coral, Bunches, too, of rue and sorrel; Wonder at his radiant fairness, At his dinted, shattered harness, With uncouth and bestial sounds, Knowing nought of war or wounds: But the crimson life-blood oozes And make roses of the daisies, Persian carpets of the mosses-- Softly now his spirit passes As the bee forsakes the lily, As the berry leaves the holly; But the fauns still think him living, And with bay leaves they are weaving Crowns to deck him. Well they may! He was worthy of the Bay.

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