“We were small and thought we knew nothing
Worth knowing. We thought words travelled the wires
In the shiny pouches of raindrops…”
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry ” ‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep!”
So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep…
Ere on my bed my limbs I lay,
God grant me grace my prayers to say:
By William Blake The Ecchoing Green is a poem by William Blake published in Songs of Innocence in 1789. The […]
‘Alas! The vipers came running terribly / devouring her innocence ruthlessly / I fail to fathom her fault / I found her – but lost in the war’
Gitanjali Poem No. 60 By Rabindranath Tagore On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless […]
By William Blake When voices of children are heard on the green,And laughing is heard on the hill,My heart is […]
By William Butler Yeats Once more the storm is howling, and half hidUnder this cradle-hood and coverlidMy child sleeps on. […]