Verse > William Blake > Poetical Works
William Blake (1757–1827).  The Poetical Works.  1908.
Poetical Sketches
Song: Fresh from the dewy hill, the merry year
FRESH from the dewy hill, the merry year
Smiles on my head and mounts his flaming car;
Round my young brows the laurel wreathes a shade,
And rising glories beam around my head.
My feet are wing’d, while o’er the dewy lawn,        5
I meet my maiden risen like the morn:
O bless those holy feet, like angels’ feet;
O bless those limbs, beaming with heav’nly light.
Like as an angel glitt’ring in the sky
In times of innocence and holy joy;        10
The joyful shepherd stops his grateful song
To hear the music of an angel’s tongue.
So when she speaks, the voice of Heaven I hear;
So when we walk, nothing impure comes near;
Each field seems Eden, and each calm retreat;        15
Each village seems the haunt of holy feet.
But that sweet village where my black-eyed maid
Closes her eyes in sleep beneath night’s shade,
Whene’er I enter, more than mortal fire
Burns in my soul, and does my song inspire.        20

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