William Blake (1757–1827). The Poetical Works. 1908.
The Pickering MS.The Land of Dreams
A
Thou wast thy mother’s only joy;
Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?
Awake! thy father does thee keep.
What are its mountains, and what are its streams?
O father! I saw my mother there,
Among the lilies by waters fair.
She walk’d with her Thomas in sweet delight.
I wept for joy, like a dove I mourn;
O! when shall I again return?’
Have wander’d all night in the Land of Dreams;
But tho’ calm and warm the waters wide,
I could not get to the other side.
In this land of unbelief and fear?
The Land of Dreams is better far,
Above the light of the morning star.’