Songs of Innocence and Experience Contents
-
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 Schoolboy
I love to rise on a summer morn,
When birds are singing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me:
Oh what sweet company!
But to go to school in a summer morn,
Oh it drives all joy away!
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day
In sighing and dismay.
Ah then at times I drooping sit,
And spend many an anxious hour;
Nor in my book can I take delight,
Nor sit in learning's bower,
Worn through with the dreary shower.
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?
Oh father and mother, if buds are nipped,
And blossoms blown away;
And if the tender plants are stripped
Of their joy in the springing day,
By sorrow and care's dismay, --
How shall the summer arise in joy,
Or the summer fruits appear?
Or how shall we gather what griefs destroy,
Or bless the mellowing year,
When the blasts of winter appear?
Recently Viewed
Related material
Scan and go


Scan on your mobile for direct link.