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William Blake (1757–1827).  The Poetical Works.  1908.
 
Poetical Sketches
Song: How sweet I roam’d from field to field
 
HOW sweet 1 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 show’d me lilies for my hair,        5
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;        10
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,        15
And mocks my loss of liberty.
 
Note 1. How sweet, &c.] According to Malkin (Father’s Memoirs, 1806), this poem was written by Blake before the age of fourteen. [back]
 
 
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