Songs of Experience: To Tirzah

 Whate'er is born of mortal birth
 Must be consumed with the earth,
 To rise from generation free:
 Then what have I to do with thee?
 
 The sexes sprang from shame and pride,
 Blown in the morn, in evening died;
 But mercy changed death into sleep;
 The sexes rose to work and weep.
 
 Thou, mother of my mortal part,
 With cruelty didst mould my heart,
 And with false self-deceiving tears
 Didst bind my nostrils, eyes, and ears,
 
 Didst close my tongue in senseless clay,
 And me to mortal life betray.
 The death of Jesus set me free:
 Then what have I to do with thee?

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