Sunday Poetry: William Blake
Ah! Sunflower
Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where 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 Sunflower wishes to go!
William Blake
Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where 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 Sunflower wishes to go!
William Blake
posted by Diane at 5:00 PM
2 Comments:
Blake was my favorite poet until I got hooked on Plath's Ariel voice, though I think he remains the greater of the two.
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
.
Tiger, tiger.
Happy M's Day!
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