ROBERT GRAVES (ST. JOHN’S)

IN my body lives a flame, Flame that burns me all the day, When a fierce sun does the same, I am charred away. Who could keep a smiling wit, Roasted so in heart and hide, Turning on the sun’s red spit, Scorched by love inside? Caves I long for and cold rocks, Minnow-peopled country brooks, Blundering gales of Equinox, Sunless valley-nooks. Daily so I might restore Calcined heart and shrivelled skin, A morning phœnix with proud roar Kindled new within.