O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
The hills tell each other, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.
Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languished head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.
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More Poems by William Blake
A Divine Image
A Dream
A Little Boy Lost
A Little Girl Lost
A Poison Tree
A Song
Ah Sunflower
Auguries Of Innocence
Earth's Answer
Hear the Voice of the Bard
Holy Thursday
Human Abstract
I Heard An Angel
I Saw a Chapel
Infant Joy
Infant Sorrow
Jerusalem
Laughing Song
London
Love's Secret
Mad Song
My Pretty Rose Tree
My Spectre Around Me
Night
Nurse's Song
On Another's Sorrow
Piping Down the Valleys Wild
Preludium To America
Preludium to Europe
Silent, Silent Night
Sleep! Sleep! Beauty Bright
Spring
The Angel
The Blossom
The Book of Thel
The Chimney Sweeper
The Clod and the Pebble
The Crystal Cabinet
The Echoing Green
The Fly
The Garden Of Love
The Grey Monk
The Lamb
The Land Of Dreams
The Lily
The Little Black Boy
The Little Boy Found
The New Jerusalem
The Little Vagabond
The Question Answered
The Schoolboy
The Sick Rose
The Tiger
The Wild Flower's Song
To Autumn
To Spring
To Summer
To the Muses
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To Spring - Poem Lyrics - William Blake - To Spring

