Page:The Poems of William Blake (Shepherd, 1887).djvu/116

THE LITTLE BOY FOUND.

THE little boy lost in the lonely fen,
⁠Led by the wandering light,
Began to cry; but God, ever nigh,
⁠Appear'd like his father in white;

He kiss'd the child, and by the hand led,
⁠And to his mother brought,
Who, in sorrow pale, thro' the lonely dale,
⁠Her little boy weeping sought.

A CRADLE SONG.

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 infant crown.
Sweet sleep, angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.

Sweet smiles in the night
Hover over my delight;
Sweet smiles, mother's smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.