| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909. | | | | Song: Fresh from the dewy hill, the merry year | | By William Blake (17571827) |
| | | FRESH from the dewy hill, the merry year | |
| Smiles on my head and mounts his flaming car; | |
| Round my young brows the laurel wreathes a shade, | |
| And rising glories beam around my head. | |
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| My feet are wingd, while oer the dewy lawn, | 5 |
| I meet my maiden risen like the morn: | |
| Oh bless those holy feet, like angels feet; | |
| Oh bless those limbs, beaming with heavnly light. | |
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| Like as an angel glittring in the sky | |
| In times of innocence and holy joy; | 10 |
| The joyful shepherd stops his grateful song | |
| To hear the music of an angels tongue. | |
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| So when she speaks, the voice of heaven I hear; | |
| So when we walk, nothing impure comes near; | |
| Each field seems Eden, and each calm retreat | 15 |
| Each village seems the haunt of holy feet. | |
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| But that sweet village where my black-eyd maid | |
| Closes her eyes in sleep beneath nights shade, | |
| Wheneer I enter, more than mortal fire | |
| Burns in my soul, and does my song inspire. | 20 | | | |
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