Robert Graves, well known to so many for his World War One memoir Goodbye to all that, was fortunate enough to live for many more years after the war; many of which were spent in sunshine far away from the choking gas and mud of the trenches.
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On a wonderful summer day like this, only one of his happiest love poems will do.
Love without hope, as when the young bird-catcher
Swept off his tall hat to the Squire’s own daughter,
So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly
Singing about her head, as she rode by.