The Golden Net
Three Virgins at the break of day
Whither young Man whither away
Alas for woe! alas for woe!
They cry and tears for ever flow
The one was Clothd in flames of firet
The other Clothd in iron wiret
The other Clothd in tears and sighst
Dazling bright before my Eyes
They bore a Net of Golden twine
To hang upon the Branches fine
Pitying I wept to see the woet
That Love and Beauty undergo
To be consumd in burning Fires
And in ungratified Desires
And in tears clothd Night and day
Melted all my Soul away
When they saw my Tears a Smile
That did Heaven itself beguile
Bore the Golden Net aloft
As on downy Pinions softt
Over the Morning of my Dayt
Underneath the Net I stray
Now intreating Burning Firet
Now intreating Iron Wiret
Now intreating Tears and Sighs
O when will the morning riset
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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