Cradle Song

Sleep, sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming in the joys of night;
Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.

As thy softest limbs I feel,
Smiles as of the morning steal
O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breast
Where thy little heart doth rest.

O the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep!
When thy little heart doth wake,
Then the dreadful night shall break.

William Blake

Wordless Wednesday

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

5 comments:

AutismWonderland Says:
21 December 2011 at 22:44

Looks like you're taking up some light reading...

MarsupialMama Says:
21 December 2011 at 23:23

Yes. Either that or I can use it as a weapon to make The Bubs cough up a few more frosted cupcakes... O_o

Lizbeth Says:
22 December 2011 at 00:36

Oh Lord, that's some heavy stuff....both literally and figuratively.

Karen V. Says:
24 December 2011 at 02:47

That pretty much sums it up for a lot of reasons, eh? ;)

Happy Holidays, my friend!! xoxo

MarsupialMama Says:
24 December 2011 at 11:33

**LOL** @ Lizbeth!!

Thank you Karen!! Hope you have lovely holidays too!!

xoxoxo

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Comments are like frosted cupcakes: they fill me with Happy!

The Clod and the Pebble

"Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a heaven in hell's despair."

So sung a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet,
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:

"Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a hell in heaven's despite."

William Blake
 
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