A Song For Two Children

Poem By Robert Graves

'Make a song, father, a new little song,
All for Jenny and Nancy.'
Balow lalow or Hey derry down,
Or else what might you fancy?

Is there any song sweet enough
For Nancy and for Jenny?
Said Simple Simon to the pieman,
'Indeed I know not any.'

'I've counted the miles to Babylon,
I've flown the earth like a bird,
I've ridden cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
But no such song have I heard.'

'Some speak of Alexander,
And some of Hercules,
But where are there any like Nancy and Jenny,
Where are there any like these?'

Comments about A Song For Two Children

A beautifully envisioned children song composed to make Nancy and Jenny. Well deserved modern poem of the Day.
2) CONGRATULATIONS to the family in the UK of the Great Poet ROBERT GRAVES for this honour from Poem Hunter and Team. Mesmerizing poem, children are the future of the country, of the world! A poem to read time and again. Sweetest Song ever heard.
To the respected family of late poet Robert Graves, these words are straught from my heart: This poem is a sweetest Song ever sung, a most intelligent poem created. All Alexander and the more, all roads to Babylon and farther, all famous songs and poems, their basis are in children, since children is the furtile soil of the best fruit, all Shakespeare's and the rest start in children's soul and mind, like in A Song For Two Children
Some speak of Alexander, And some of Hercules, But where are there any like Nancy and Jenny, Where are there any like these? ' beutiful poem. tony
I've counted the miles to Babylon, I've flown the earth like a bird, /// beautifully penned


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Other poems of GRAVES

Call It A Good Marriage

Call it a good marriage -
For no one ever questioned
Her warmth, his masculinity,
Their interlocking views;

A Rhyme Of Friends

Listen now this time
Shortly to my rhyme

A Dead Boche

To you who'd read my songs of War
And only hear of blood and fame,
I'll say (you've heard it said before)
"War's Hell! " and if you doubt the same,

An English Wood

This valley wood is pledged
To the set shape of things,
And reasonably hedged:
Here are no harpies fledged,

A Frosty Night

Mother: Alice, dear, what ails you,
Dazed and white and shaken?
Has the chill night numbed you?
Is it fright you have taken?