Explore "Babylon" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The child alone a poet is: / Spring and Fairyland are his. / Truth and Reason show but dim, / And all's poetry with him. / Rhyme and music flow in plenty / For the lad of one-and-twenty, / But Spring for him is no more now / Than daisies to a munching cow; / Just a cheery pleasant season, / Daisy buds to live at ease on. / He's forgotten how he smiled / And shrieked at snowdrops when a child, / Or wept one evening secretly / For April's glorious misery. / Wisdom made him old and wary / Banishing the Lords of Faery. / Wisdom made a breach and battered / Babylon to bits: she scattered / To the hedges and ditches / All our nursery gnomes and witches. / Lob and Puck, poor frantic elves, / Drag their treasures from the shelves.
Jack the Giant-killer's gone, / Mother Goose and Oberon, / Bluebeard and King Solomon. / Robin, and Red Riding Hood / Take together to the wood, / And Sir Galahad lies hid / In a cave with Captain Kidd. / None of all the magic hosts, / None remain but a few ghosts / Of timorous heart, to linger on / Weeping for lost Babylon.