First World War Poetry Digital Archive

On Finding Myself A Soldier

ON FINDING MYSELF A SOLDIER by ROBERT GRAVES

My bud was backward to unclose, A pretty baby-queen, Furled petal-tips of creamy rose Caught in a clasp of green.

Somehow, I never thought to doubt That when her heart should show She would be coloured in as out, Like the flush of dawn on snow:

But yesterday aghast I found, Where last I'd left the bud, Twelve flamy petals ringed around A heart more red than blood.

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