��WILLIAM BLAKE

To the Muses

WfHETHER on Ida's shady brow

• * Or in the chambers of the East,

The chambers of the Sun, that now From ancient melody have ceased ;

Whether in heaven ye wander fair,

Or the green corners of the earth, Or the blue regions of the air

Where the melodious winds have birth;

Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,

Beneath the bosom of the sea, Wandering in many a coral grove ;

Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry ;

How have you left the ancient love

That bards of old enjoy'd in you! The languid strings do scarcely move,

The sound is forced, the notes are few.

��. To Spring

THOU with dewy locks, who lookest down Through 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 one another, 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 !

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