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1 " Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,Who countest the steps of the Sun:Seeking after that sweet golden climeWhere the traveller's journey is done. Where the Youth pined away with desire,And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire, Where my Sun-flower wishes to go. "
― William Blake , Songs of Experience
2 " I was angry with my friend:I told my wrath, my wrath did end.I was angry with my foe:I told it not, my wrath did grow. "
3 " I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe; I told it not, my wrath did grow.And I water'd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunnéd it with smiles And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole, When the night had veil'd the pole: In the morning glad I see My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree. "
4 " O Rose, thou art sick.The invisible wormThat flies in the nightIn the howling stormHas found out thy bedOf crimson joy,And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy. "
5 " Is this a holy thing to see,In a rich and fruitful land,Babes reduced to misery,Feed with cold and usurous hand?Is that trembling cry a song?Can it be a song of joy?And so many children poor?It is a land of poverty!And their sun does never shine,And their fields are bleak & bare,And their ways are fill'd with thorns;It is eternal winter there.For where-e'er the sun does shine,And where-e'er the rain does fall,Babe can never hunger there,Nor poverty the mind appall. "
6 " Selfish father of men!Cruel, jealous, selfish fear!Can delight,Chained in night,The virgins of youth and morning bear. 'Does spring hide its joyWhen buds and blossoms grow?Does the sowerSow by night,Or the plowman in darkness plow?'Break this heavy chain, That does freeze my bones around!Selfish, vain,Eternal bane,That free Love with bondage bound. "