Robert Graves

The Beacon

The silent shepherdess,
She of my vows,
Here with me exchanging love
Under dim boughs.
 
Shines on our mysteries
A sudden spark—
‘Dout the candle, glow—worm,
Let all be dark.
 
’The birds have sung their last notes,
The Sun’s to bed,
Glow—worm, dout your candle.'
The glow—worm said:
 
‘I also am a lover;
The lamp I display
Is beacon for my true love
Wandering astray.
 
’Through the thick bushes
And the grass comes she
With a heartload of longing
And love for me.
 
‘Sir, enjoy your fancy,
But spare me harm,
A lover is a lover,
Though but a worm.’

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