Home  »  The Oxford Book of English Verse  »  485. Song

Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.

William Blake. 1757–1827

485. 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:         5
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?  10
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,  15
  Let winds and tempests beat: 
Then down I’ll lie, as cold as clay: 
True love doth pass away!