Robert Graves: Sorley's Weather
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Sorley's Weather

1895.7.24-1985.12.7


When outside the icy rain
         Comes leaping helter-skelter,
Shall I tie my restive brain
         Snugly under shelter?

Shall I make a gentle song
         Here in my firelit study,
When outside the winds blow strong
         And the lanes are muddy?

With old wine and drowsy meats
         Am I to fill my belly?
Shall I glutton here with Keats?
         Shall I drink with Shelley?

Tobacco's pleasant, firelight's good:
         Poetry makes both better.
Clay is wet and so is mud,
         Winter rains are wetter.

Yet rest there, Shelley, on the sill,
         For though the winds come frorely,
I'm away to the rain-blown hill
         And the ghost of Sorley.


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DayPoems Poem No. 2723



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