The sun descending in the west,
The evening star does shine,
The birds are silent in their nest,
And I must seek for mine.
The moon like a flower,
In heaven’s high bower,
With silent delight
Sits and smiles on the night.
Farewell green fields and happy grove,
Where flocks have took delight.
Where lambs have nibbled, silent move,
The feet of angels bright,
Unseen they pour blessing,
And joy without ceasing,
On each bud and blossom,
And each sleeping bosom.
They look in every thoughtless nest
Where birds are covered warm,
They visit caves of every beast,
To keep them all from harm.
If they see any weeping,
That should have been sleeping.
They pour sleep on their head,
And sit down by their bed.
When wolves and tigers howl for prey
They pitying stand and weep;
Seeking to drive their thirst away
And keep them away from the sheep
But if they rush dreadful
The angels most heedful
Receive each mild spirit,
New words to inherit.
WILLIAM BLAKE
Nibble : to bite gently
Heedful : careful
Inherit : to succeed as an heir
