قراءة كتاب Songs of Innocence, and Songs of Experience

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‏اللغة: English
Songs of Innocence, and Songs of Experience

Songs of Innocence, and Songs of Experience

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 2

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The Sick Rose

47

The Fly

48

The Angel

50

The Tiger

51

My Pretty Rose-Tree

53

Ah, Sunflower

54

The Lily

55

The Garden of Love

56

The Little Vagabond

57

London

58

The Human Abstract

59

Infant Sorrow

61

A Poison Tree

62

A Little Boy Lost

63

A Little Girl Lost

65

A Divine Image

67

A Cradle Song

68

The Schoolboy

69

To Tirzah

71

The Voice of the Ancient Bard

72

SONGS OF INNOCENCE

INTRODUCTION

Piping down the valleys wild,
   Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
   And he laughing said to me:

‘Pipe a song about a Lamb!’
   So I piped with merry cheer.
‘Piper, pipe that song again.’
   So I piped: he wept to hear.

‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;
   Sing thy songs of happy cheer!’
So I sung the same again,
   While he wept with joy to hear.

‘Piper, sit thee down and write
   In a book, that all may read.’
So he vanished from my sight;
   And I plucked a hollow reed,

And I made a rural pen,
   And I stained the water clear,
And I wrote my happy songs
   Every child may joy to hear.

THE SHEPHERD

How sweet is the shepherd’s sweet lot!
From the morn to the evening he strays;
He shall follow his sheep all the day,
And his tongue shall be fillèd with praise.

For he hears the lambs’ innocent call,
And he hears the ewes’ tender reply;
He is watchful while they are in peace,
For they know when their shepherd is nigh.

THE ECHOING GREEN

The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies;
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring;
The skylark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around
To the bells’ cheerful sound;
While our sports shall be seen
On the echoing green.

Old John, with white hair,
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk.
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say,
‘Such, such were the joys
When we all—girls and boys—
In our youth-time were seen
On the echoing green.’

Till the little ones, weary,
No more can be merry:
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end.
Round the laps of their mothers
Many sisters and

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