William Blake (1757-1827)
The Sick Rose 1794
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible warm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
The Sick Rose 1794
O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible warm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
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