William Blake

(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827 / London)

To Spring - Poem by William Blake

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.


Comments about To Spring by William Blake

  • Hans Vr (11/13/2016 4:36:00 AM)

    To spring
    I like this poem very much, as most of Blake's other writitngs
    I truly do not understand the people giving him ratings anything less than full marks.
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  • Mizzy ........ (8/31/2016 2:52:00 PM)


    Superb descriptions of Spring....... (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: sick, angel, kiss, spring, wind



Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 10, 2001

Poem Edited: Thursday, May 10, 2001


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