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Robert Graves - 1915Robert Graves - 1915
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I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,   In the fields between La Bassée and Bethune;   Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,   Red poppy floods of June,   August, and yellowing Autumn, so           To Winter nights knee-deep in mud or snow,   And you’ve been everything.     Dear, you’ve been everything that I most lack   In these soul-deadening trenches—pictures, books,   Music, the quiet of an English wood,     Beautiful comrade-looks,   The narrow, bouldered mountain-track,   The broad, full-bosomed ocean, green and black,   And Peace, and all that’s good.
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