Silent Silent Night
Silent, silent night, Quench the holy light Of thy torches bright;
For possessed of Day Thousand spirits stray That sweet joys betray.
Why should joys be sweet
Used with deceit,
Nor with sorrows meet?
But an honest joy Does itself destroy For a harlot coy.
William Blake
|
Sleep! Sleep! Beauty Bright | |
|
Sleep! sleep! beauty bright, Dreaming o'er the joys of night; Sleep! sleep! in thy sleep Little sorrows sit and weep. | |
|
Sweet Babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles. | |
|
As thy softest limbs I feel, Smiles as of the morning steal O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breast Where thy little heart does rest. | |
|
0! the cunning wiles that creep In thy little heart asleep. When thy little heart does wake Then the dreadful lightnings break, | |
|
From thy cheek and from thy eye, O'er the youthful harvests nigh. Infant wiles and infant smiles Heaven and Earth of peace beguiles. | |
|
William Blake | |
|
www.PoemHunter.com - The World's Poetry Archive |
134 |
Post a comment