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


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!!


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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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