Quote #85
Sleep, sleep, beauty bright, Dreaming o'er the joys of night. Sleep, sleep: in thy sleep Little sorrows sit and weep.
More from William Blake
- I asked a thief to steal me a peach: He turned up his eyes. I asked a lithe lady to lie her down: Holy and meek, she cries. As soon as I we…
- Why art thou silent and invisible, Father of Jealousy?
- Never seek to tell thy love Love that never told can be; For the gentle wind does move Silently, invisibly. I told my love, I told my love,…
- Love to faults is always blind, Always is to joys inclined, Lawless, winged, and unconfined, And breaks all chains from every mind.
- The ancient poets animated all objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, riv…
- The sword sung on the barren heath, The sickle in the fruitful field; The sword he sung a song of death, But could not make the sickle yiel…
- Enough! or too much.
- Abstinence sows sand all over The ruddy limbs and flaming hair, But desire gratified Plants fruits of life and beauty there.