![]() ![]() When I from black, and he from white cloud free, And round the tent of God like lambs we joy, Thus did my mother say, and kissed me, And thus I say to little English boy. ‘For, when our souls have learned the heat to bear, The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice, Saying, “Come out from the grove, my love and care, And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.”‘ ‘And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love And these black bodies and this sunburnt face Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove. ‘Look on the rising sun: there God does live, And gives His light, and gives His heat away, And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday. ![]() ![]() My mother taught me underneath a tree, And, sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissed me, White as an angel is the English child, But I am black, as if bereaved of light. My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O my soul is white! He is watchful while they are in peace, For they know when their shepherd is nigh. He shall follow his sheep all the day, And his tongue shall be filled with praise.įor he hears the lambs’ innocent call, And he hears the ewes’ tender reply How sweet is the shepherd’s sweet lot! From the morn to the evening he strays Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience This etext was prepared by David Price, email from the 1901 R. ![]()
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