My Pretty Rose Tree
A flower was offered to me;
Such a flower as May never bore.
But I said I've a Pretty Rose Tree;
And I passed the sweet flower o'er.
Then I went to my Pretty Rose Tree;
To tend her by day and by night.
But my Rose turned away with jealousy;
And her thorns were my only delight.
Ah Sunflower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveler's journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sunflower wishes to go.
The modest Rose puts forth a thorn:
The humble Sheep, a threatening horn:
While the Lily white, shall in Love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright.
The Garden of Love
I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.
And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And Thou shalt not. writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore.
And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys and desires.
ALL OF THESE POEMS BY WILLIAM BLAKE ARE FROM
SONGS OF EXPERIENCE
William Blake (1757-1827) was an English poet, painter, engraver, and mystic. His book of poems, Songs of Experience (1794), contains some of his most beloved poems, including "The Tyger."
HAPPY EASTER! HAPPY SPRING!