Poemsby William Blake

The Chimney Sweeper

The Sick Rose

Nurse's Song

 
 When voices of children are heard on the green,
 And whisperings are in the dale,
 The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind,
 My face turns green and pale.

 
 Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down,
 And the dews of night arise;
 Your spring and your day are wasted in play,
 And your winter and night in disguise.

Contents

The Chimney Sweeper

The Sick Rose