Page:The poetical works of William Blake; a new and verbatim text from the manuscript engraved and letterpress originals (1905).djvu/160

118 Tired and woe-begone, 5 Hoarse with making moan, Arm in arm seven days They trac'd the desart ways. Seven nights they sleep 9 Among shadows deep, And dream they see their child Starv'd in desart wild. Pale, thro' pathless ways 13 The fancied image strays Famish'd, weeping, weak, With hollow piteous shriek. Rising from unrest, 17 The trembling woman prest With feet of weary woe : She could no further go. In his arms he bore ai Her, arm'd with sorrow sore ; Till before their way A couching lion lay. Turning back was vain: 25 Soon his heavy mane Bore them to the ground. Then he stalk'd around, Smelling to his prey ; 39 But their fears allay When he licks their hands. And silent by them stands. They look upon his eyes 33 Fill'd with deep surprise ; And wondering behold A spirit arm'd in gold. sorrow] sorrows DGR. 26 his] the Wilk.