William Blake

Song: How sweet I roam'd from field to field

How sweet I roam’d from field to field,
        And tasted all the summer’s pride,
'Till I the prince of love beheld,
        Who in the sunny beams did glide!
 
He shew’d me lilies for my hair,
        And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his gardens fair,
        Where all his golden pleasures grow.
 
With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
        And Phoebus fir’d my vocal rage;
He caught me in his silken net,
        And shut me in his golden cage.
 
He loves to sit and hear me sing,
        Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
        And mocks my loss of liberty.
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