What We Need Is A Little Blake In Here
A CRADLE SONG, by William Blake
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming in 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.
O the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep!
When thy little heart does wake,
Then the dreadful light shall 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.
"A Cradle Song" (1791)
posted by Bobby @ 6:12 AM
2 comments
2 Comments:
And imagine my surprise just now when I was reading the Burnside Writers Collective and found this other Blake poem along with excellent analysis -- check it out: http://www.burnsidewriterscollective.com/reviews/books/b/blake_william_the_garden_of_lo0706.php
holy smokes--someone actually found a Blake poem I like? I can't believe it. I bought a collection of his poems once in the hopes of liking them, and I just . . . didn't. But I liked this one. Hmm. Maybe I'll have to give him another try.
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