At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them.
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
A moving BBC interview with William Graves, who talks about the effect of WW1 on Robert Graves
Was it for this the clay grew tall? – O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth’s sleep at all?
Mother whose heart hung humble as a button On the bright splendid shroud of your son, Do not weep. War is kind!
They were no longer living men and troops, but a dream drifting in a fog, a mystery…
By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand