– Poem by: William Blake

The Angel

I dreamt a dream!

What can it mean?

And that I was a maiden Queen

Guarded by an Angel mild:

Witless woe was ne’er beguiled!

And I wept both night and day,

And he wiped my tears away;

And I wept both day and night,

And hid from him my heart’s delight.

So he took his wings, and fled;

Then the morn blushed rosy red.

I dried my tears,

and armed my fears

With ten-thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again;

I was armed,

he came in vain;

For the time of youth was fled,

And grey hairs were on my head.

William Blake

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