reading Songs of Innocence and of Experience by William Blake
"And I plucked a hollow reed, And I made a rural pen, And I stained the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs, Every child may joy to hear."
"The sun does arise, And make happy the skies."
“That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack, Were all of them locked up in coffins of black. And by came an angel, who had a bright key, And he opened the coffins, and set them all free.”
“Come live, and be merry, and join with me, To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha ha he!'”
“Sweet dreams of pleasant streams, By happy, silent, moony beams!”
“The sun descending in the West, The evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest, And I must seek for mine.”
“For, washed in life's river, My bright mane for ever, Shall shine like the gold, As I guard o'er the fold.”
“Little girl, Sweet and small; Cock does crow, So do you; Merry voice, Infant noise.”
"'I have no name; I am but two days old.' What shall I call thee? 'I happy am, Joy is my name.'"
“And their sun does never shine, And their fields are bleak and bare, And their ways are filled with thorns, It is eternal winter there."
"Let thy moon arise, While I close my eyes."
“Then they followed, Where the vision led, And saw their sleeping child, Among tigers wild. To this day they dwell, In a lonely dell, Nor fear the wolvish howl, Nor the lion's growl."
"They clothed me in the clothes of death, And taught me to sing the notes of woe."
“Am not I, A fly like thee? Or art not thou, A man like me?"
“I dried my tears, and armed my fears, With ten thousand shields and spears."
"What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain?"
"Then I went to my pretty rose tree, To tend her by day and by night; But my rose turned away with jealousy, And her thorns were my only delight."
“My mother groaned, my father wept: Into the dangerous world I leapt.”
“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 watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears.”
“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 watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears.”
"Sleep, sleep, beauty bright, Dreaming in the joys of night."
"I love to rise in a summer morn, When the birds sing on every tree; The distant huntsman winds his horn, And the skylark sings with me."
"How can the bird that is born for joy, Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring!"
"Whate'er is born of mortal birth, Must be consumed with the earth."