his slow smile

Here's a Robert Graves poem - as referenced within the pictured 1982 biography, written by Martin Seymour-Smith, who knew Graves relatively well:


Not Dead

Walking through trees to cool my heat and pain,
I know that David’s with me here again.
All that is simple, happy, strong, he is.
Caressingly I stroke
Rough bark of the friendly oak.
A brook goes bubbling by: the voice is his.
Turf burns with pleasant smoke;
I laugh at chaffinch and at primroses.
All that is simple, happy, strong, he is.
Over the whole wood in a little while
Breaks his slow smile.

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Robert Graves (1895 - 1985)

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