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    (From Songs of Innocence and Experience)

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    The Songs of Innocence, The Songs of Experience and The Book of Thel by William Blake at Nimbi - William Blake's Life, Poetry and Art

     All the night in woe
     Lyca's parents go
     Over valleys deep,
     While the deserts weep.
     Tired and woe-begone,
     Hoarse with making moan,
     Arm in arm, seven days
     They traced the desert ways.
     Seven nights they sleep
     Among shadows deep,
     And dream they see their child
     Starved in desert wild.
     Pale through pathless ways
     The fancied image strays,
     Famished, weeping, weak,
     With hollow piteous shriek.
     Rising from unrest,
     The trembling woman presse
     With feet of weary woe;
     She could no further go.
     In his arms he bore
     Her, armed with sorrow sore;
     Till before their way
     A couching lion lay.
     Turning back was vain:
     Soon his heavy mane
     Bore them to the ground,
     Then he stalked around,
     Smelling to his prey;
     But their fears allay
     When he licks their hands,
     And silent by them stands.
     They look upon his eyes,
     Filled with deep surprise;
     And wondering behold
     A spirit armed in gold.
     On his head a crown,
     On his shoulders down
     Flowed his golden hair.
     Gone was all their care.
     "Follow me," he said;
     "Weep not for the maid;
     In my palace deep,
     Lyca lies asleep."
     Then they followed
     Where the vision led,
     And saw their sleeping child
     Among tigers wild.
     To this day they dwell
     In a lonely dell,
     Nor fear the wolvish howl
     Nor the lion's growl.



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