"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 priests in black gowns were walking their rounds and binding with briars my joys and desires. (from 'The Garden of Love')"
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Source: William Blake (2005). “Collected Poems”, p.75, Routledge
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