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William Blake (Уильям Блейк)


The Angel


I dreamt a dream!  What can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!

And I wept both night and day,
And he wiped my tears away;
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart's delight.

So he took his wings, and fled;
Then the morn blushed rosy red.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again;
I was armed, he came in vain;
For the time of youth was fled,
And grey hairs were on my head.



William Blake's other poems:
  1. To Thomas Butts
  2. The Invocation
  3. The Fairy
  4. You Don't Believe
  5. My Pretty Rose Tree


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1616



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