Labels:text | screenshot | menu OCR: . William Blake (1757-1827) Infant Sorrow My mother groan'd! My father wept. Into the dangerous world I leapt; Helpless, naked, piping loud; Like a fiend hid in a cloud. Struggling in my father's hands Striving against my swaddling bands, *Bound and weary I thought best To sulk upon my mother's breast. --Songs of Experience Thou hast a lapful of seed, And this is a fine country. Why dost thou not cast thy seed" And live in it merrily? Shall I cast it on the sand And turn it into fruitful land? For on no other ground Can I sow my seed Without tearing up Some stinking weed. --Poems from the Rossetti MS A Cradle Song (excerpt) Sweet dreams, form a shade O'er my lovely infant's head; Sweet dreams of pleasant streams By happy, silent, moony beams. Sweet sleep, with soft down Weave thy brows an ...
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