William Blake

“ Each day I mourn along the wood,
And night hath heard my sorrows loud.
She.⁠Dost thou truly long for me?
And am I thus sweet to thee?
Sorrow now is at an End,
O my lover & my Friend!
He.⁠Come! on wings of joy we'll fly
To where my Bower is hung on high!
Come, & make thy calm retreat
Among green leaves and blossoms sweet!
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↑ Life of William Blake (1880) , Volume 2, William Blake, Anne Gilchrist, Alexander Gilchrist, Dante Gabriel Rossetti↑ "Blake Complete Writings", ed. Geoffrey Keynes, pub. OUP 1966/85, p. 422-3. ”