Page:The poetical works of William Blake - lyrical and miscellaneous.djvu/317

 BARREN BLOSSOM.

FEARED the fury of my wind Would blight all blossoms fair and true; And my sun it shined and shined, And my wind it never blew. But a blossom fair or true Was not found on any tree; For dl blossoms grew and grew Fruitless, false, though fair to see. NIGHT AND DAY. silen Night, the holy light � . .. torches bright; For, possessed of Day, Thousand spirits stray That sweet joys betray. Why should joys be sweet Used with deceit, Nor with sorrows meet ? But an honest joy Doth itself destroy For a harlot coy.