Tuesday, October 18, 2011
William Blake (1757-1827)
Ah! Sunflower
.
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers 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 Sun-flower wishes to go.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment