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William Blake (1757–1827). The Poetical Works. 1908.

Songs of Experience

Infant Sorrow

MY mother groan’d, my father wept,

Into the dangerous world I leapt;

Helpless, naked, piping loud,

Like a fiend hid in a cloud.

Struggling in my father’s hands,

Striving against my swaddling-bands,

Bound and weary, I thought best

To sulk upon my mother’s breast.