"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."
"Why a tender curb upon the youthful burning boy? Why a little curtain of flesh on the bed of our desire?"
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Source: William Blake, David Fuller (2000). “William Blake: Selected Poetry and Prose”, p.120, Pearson Education
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