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Read more poems by William Blake: William Blake Poems at Poetry X.

When the voices of children. are heard on the green
And whisprings 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 & your day. are wasted in play
And your winter and night in disguise.

Added: 14 Oct 2001 | Last Read: 13 Feb 2012 5:13 AM | Viewed: 12359 times

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