"Ah, sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done; Where the youth pined away with desire And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sunflower wishes to go."
"And I watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles."
5 likes
Source: William Blake, W. H. Stevenson (2007). “Blake: The Complete Poems”, p.155, Pearson Education
About the author