"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."
"The generations of men run on in the tide of time, but leave their destined lineaments permanent for ever and ever."
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Source: William Blake, W. H. Stevenson (2007). “Blake: The Complete Poems”, p.549, Pearson Education
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