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

Songs of Experience

The Angel

I DREAMT a dream! what can it mean?

And that I was a maiden Queen,

Guarded by an Angel mild:

Witless woe was ne’er beguil’d!

And I wept both night and day,

And he wip’d my tears away,

And I wept both day and night,

And hid from him my heart’s delight.

So he took his wings and fled;

Then the morn blush’d rosy red;

I dried my tears, and arm’d my fears

With ten thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again:

I was arm’d, he came in vain;

For the time of youth was fled,

And grey hairs were on my head.