ANGEL, THE

THE ANGEL DE WILLIAM BLAKE
------------------------------------------------------------I dream a dream What can it mean?
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 wipen 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 an speards.

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
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POESIA DE BLAKE William
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