Thou perceivest the Flowers put forth their precious Odours, And none can tell how from so small a centre come such sweet, Forgetting that within that centre Eternity expands Its ever-during doors, that Og and Anak fiercely guard. First, ere the morning breaks, joy opens in the flowery bosoms, Joy even to tears, which the sun rising dries : first the Wild Thyme And Meadowsweet, downy and soft, waving among the reeds, Light springing on the air, lead the sweet dance ; they wake The Honeysuckle sleeping on the oak, the flaunting beauty Revels along upon the wind ; the White-thorn, lovely May, Opens her many lovely eyes ; listening, the Rose still sleeps -- None dare to wake her ; soon she bursts her crimson-curtained bed And comes forth in the majesty of beauty. Every Flower, The Pink, the Jessamine, the Wall-flower, the Carnation, The Jonquil, the mild Lily opes her heavens ; every Tree And Flower and Herb soon fill the air with an innumerable dance, Yet all in order sweet and lovely. Men are sick with love!
- by William Blake (1757 - 1827), appears in Milton, a Poem in Two Books [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by (Herbert) Alan Tregaskis (b. 1918), "The innumerable dance", 1962-? [medium voice and piano or orchestra], from Five Blake Songs, no. 2. [text not verified]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2009-11-01
Line count: 17
Word count: 179