Songs of Innocence and Experience Contents
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Author(s)
- Blake, William
- Songs of Innocence: Introduction
- Songs of Innocence: The Shepherd
- Songs of Innocence: The Ecchoing Green
- Songs of Innocence: The Lamb
- Songs of Innocence: The Little Black Boy
- Songs of Innocence: The Blossom
- Songs of Innocence: The Chimney Sweeper
- Songs of Innocence: The Little Boy Lost
- Songs of Innocence: The Little Boy Found
- Songs of Innocence: Laughing Song
- Songs of Innocence: A Cradle Song
- Songs of Innocence: The Divine Image
- Songs of Innocence: Holy Thursday
- Songs of Innocence: Night
- Songs of Innocence: Spring
- Songs of Innocence: Nurse's Song
- Songs of Innocence: Infant Joy
- Songs of Innocence: A Dream
- Songs of Innocence: On Another's Sorrow
- Songs of Experience: Introduction
- Songs of Experience: Earth's Answer
- Songs of Experience: The Clod and the Pebble
- Songs of Experience: Holy Thursday
- Songs of Experience: The Little Girl Lost
- Songs of Experience: The Little Girl Found
- Songs of Experience: The Chimney Sweeper
- Songs of Experience: Nurse's Song
- Songs of Experience: The Sick Rose
- Songs of Experience: The Fly
- Songs of Experience: The Angel
- Songs of Experience: The Tyger
- Songs of Experience: My Pretty Rose-tree
- Songs of Experience: Ah! Sun-flower
- Songs of Experience: The Lilly
- Songs of Experience: The Garden of Love
- Songs of Experience: The Little Vagabond
- Songs of Experience: London
- Songs of Experience: The Human Abstract
- Songs of Experience: Infant Sorrow
- Songs of Experience: A Poison Tree
- Songs of Experience: A Little Boy Lost
- Songs of Experience: A Little Girl Lost
- Songs of Experience: To Tirzah
- Songs of Experience: The Schoolboy
- Songs of Experience: The Voice of the Ancient Bard
- Songs of Experience: A Divine Image
Songs of Experience: The Garden of Love
I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.
Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.
I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.
And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And 'Thou shalt not,' writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.
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