Page:The Poems of William Blake (Shepherd, 1887).djvu/36

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14
POETICAL

SONG.

MY silks and fine array,
My smiles and languish'd air
By love are driven away;
And mournful lean Despair
Brings me yew to deck my grave:
Such end true lovers have.
 
His face is fair as heaven
When springing buds unfold;
O why to him was't given,
Whose heart is wintry cold?
His breast is love's all-worshipp'd tomb,
Where all love's pilgrims come.
 
Bring me an axe and spade,
Bring me a winding-sheet;
When I my grave have made
Let winds and tempests beat:
Then down I'll lie, as cold as clay:
True love doth pass away!


SONG.

LOVE and harmony combine
And around our souls intwine,
While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join.