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The Angel

    (A poem by William Blake)

    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 - read poems online

    William Blake was an English poet, painter, and printmaker whose work is today considered seminal and significant in the history of both poetry and the visual arts. Read more of his writings here.

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