Robert Graves Quotes:
Ocupation: Poet
Life: July 24, 1895 - December 7, 1985
Birthday: July 24
Death: December 7
Where nature with accustomed round Sweeps and garnishes the ground With kindly beauty, warm or cold Alternate seasons never old: Heathen, how furiously you rage, Cursing this blood and brimstone age, How furiously against your will You kill and kill again, and kill: All thought of peace behind you cast, Till like small boys with fear aghast, Each cries for God to understand, 'I could not help it, it was my hand.
topic: Boys, Blood, Hands, Aghast
