Page:Works of William Blake; poetic, symbolic, and critical (1893) Volume 2.djvu/51

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My Spectre before me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way.
My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.
A deep winter, dark and cold,
Within my heart thou didst unfold;
A fathomless and boundless deep;
There we wander, there we weep.
He scents thy footsteps in the snow,
Wheresoever thou dost go,
Through the wintry hail and rain.
When wilt thou return again?
Dost thou not in pride and scorn
Fill with tempests all my morn,
And with jealousies and fears,
Fill my pleasant nights with tears?
Seven of thy sweet loves thy knife
Has bereaved of their life.
Their marble tombs I build with fears
And with cold and shadowy tears.
Seven more loves weep night and day
Round the tombs where my loves lay,
And seven more loves attend at nigh
Around my couch with torches bright.
And seven more loves in my bed
Crown with vine my mournful head,
Pitying and forgiving all
Thy transgressions, great and small.
When wilt thou return and view
My loves, and them to life renew?
When wilt thou return and live?
When wilt thou pity as I forgive?