| William Blake (1757–1827). The Poetical Works. 1908. | | | | Poetical Sketches | | Song: My silks and fine array |
| | | MY silks and fine array, | |
| My smiles and languish’d air, | |
| By love are driv’n away; | |
| And mournful lean Despair | |
| Brings me yew to deck my grave; | 5 |
| Such end true lovers have. | |
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| His face is fair as heav’n | |
| When springing buds unfold; | |
| O why to him was ’t giv’n | |
| Whose heart is wintry cold? | 10 |
| His breast is love’s all-worshipp’d tomb, | |
| Where all love’s pilgrims come. | |
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| Bring me an axe and spade, | |
| Bring me a winding-sheet; | |
| When I my grave have made | 15 |
| Let winds and tempests beat: | |
| Then down I’ll lie as cold as clay. | |
| True love doth pass away! | | | | |
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