Page:Life of William Blake, Pictor ignotus (Volume 2).djvu/25



How sweet I roamed fron field to field, And tasted all the snmmer's pride, 'Till I the Prince of Love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide! He show'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 fired 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, laughiug, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty.