Robert Graves

1895 - 1985 / London / England

The Beacon

The silent shepherdess,
She of my vows,
Here with me exchanging love
Under dim boughs.

Shines on our mysteries
A sudden spark--
'Dout the candle, glow-worm,
Let all be dark.

'The birds have sung their last notes,
The Sun's to bed,
Glow-worm, dout your candle.'
The glow-worm said:

'I also am a lover;
The lamp I display
Is beacon for my true love
Wandering astray.

'Through the thick bushes
And the grass comes she
With a heartload of longing
And love for me.

'Sir, enjoy your fancy,
But spare me harm,
A lover is a lover,
Though but a worm.'
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