Poem of the Week
Every week, on this page, we will show a different poem from a selection of poems chosen by prominent members of the Robert Graves Society.

THE TROLL’S NOSEGAY

A simple nosegay! was that much to ask?

(Winter still nagged, with scarce a bud yet showing.)

He loved her ill, if he resigned the task.

'Somewhere,' she cried, 'there must be blossom blowing.'

It seems my lady wept and the troll swore

By Heaven he hated tears: he'd cure her spleen--

Where she had begged one flower he'd shower fourscore,

A bunch fit to amaze a China Queen.

Cold fog-drawn Lily, pale mist-magic Rose

He conjured, and in a glassy cauldron set

With elvish unsubstantial Mignonette

And such vague bloom as wandering dreams enclose.

But she?

Awed,

Charmed to tears,

Distracted,

Yet--

Even yet, perhaps, a trifle piqued--who knows?

[From The Pier-Glass (1921)]

BOOKS

Complete Poems in One Volume

Robert's complete set of poems edited by Beryl Graves and Dunstan Ward and published in 3 volumes over the period 1995-1999  is now available in a single-volume hardcover, paperback or eBook publication from Carcanet and Penguin.